The Cure Givers
by Midnight Star 2373
Summary: AU where WICKED discovers the Cure after the Third Trial. Thomas, Newt, Minho, and the others are assigned into groups to help distribute the Cure to the world. It's a dangerous job, and while the Cure is saving millions the Gladers are confronted with a horrible suspicion-is WICKED good? Do they have a hidden reason for wanting a cured world? Who can they trust?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All right belong to James Dashner (even though he doesn't deserve it for what he did on page 250 of The Death Cure)

Rating: T for Glader language and violence

Author's Note: *contains Death Cure spoilers* I was inspired to write this because it broke my heart when Newt died. I cried for a while, then wrote a four page essay on why he was the best character (and my favorite) and why he didn't deserve his fate. I also can't find it within myself to forgive Thomas for not following the note the first time, but I still love him, so I had to write this so that I can fix my broken heart. I hope you enjoy this story, which takes place right after the Third Trial in an AU where WICKED does discover the Cure.

**Chapter 1**

The Rat Man had gathered the survivors in a large room. Thomas sat at one of many tables, Minho and Newt to his right and Frypan and Teresa to his left. His leg wouldn't stop bouncing, a habit he'd procured from his time in the padded room. Tension gripped his every fiber as he sat perched on the edge of the seat. Newt, closest to him, gave him a reassuring look.

"I bet you're all wondering why you're here," Rat Man said. "And I'm not one to disappoint. I have good news for all of you." He looked around, giving everyone an equal amount of time to make eye contact before he shifted his feet and continued. "The Trials were a success, as you might guess. All of you played the part brilliantly, and the brain patterns and configurations we observed were of great use."

"Played the part?" Minho's eyes raged. "We were just trying to survive, you slinthead. That's all we ever wanted."

"Sacrifice was necessary, Mr. Minho. But it was not all a waste. Those that you left behind in the maze weren't left to die. We rescued them and brought them back to our faculties. We removed their old Swipe and placed in a new one. They won't remember the maze, but they remember their past. WICKED is good, after all."

"Are you going to give us back our memories?" a girl asked.

"Yes. All in good time," Rat Man replied. "If you want them. We'll do that later. Now, however, we have a much more pressing matter."

"I thought we were done!" Minho snapped. "All you do is lie to us." He began to stand and Newt grabbed his arm and pulled him down again, whispering furiously in his ear.

"I know why you have trust issues. Hardship and suffering was necessary. The end justifies the means, though, and you've brought about huge scientific discoveries."

"Then tell us the bloody good news," Newt said, an edge to his voice. Thomas jerked in surprise; Newt had hardly ever spoken so harshly. He'd gone through something during his time since the Trials and it didn't seem like it had been a joyride.

"As you wish, Mr. Newton. You see, we discovered the cure. What sets the immune apart from the Controls. We—"

"Controls?" Thomas spoke in a low voice. He didn't like the sound of that. Controls in science experiments were the unchanged variable, and that would mean…

"Yes, Controls. Not everyone in the Trials were immune. You, Mr. Thomas, are immune to the Flare." Rat Man shifted the papers in his hand.

"You said we all had the Flare inside of us," Thomas argued. Something lurked at the back of his mind, a memory trying to move forward. It didn't succeed, and melted back into its corner as if it had never tried to escape.

"You did. And you should know, brilliant scientist that you were, that being immune means that the virus is in you but doesn't affect you. All of you were exposed to the Flare. Only some of you will begin to show symptoms. The majority of you who survived are immune." Rat Man glanced at a few of the girls, one or two Gladers and then at Newt.

"So some of us unlucky shanks are going to turn insane?" Newt asked.

"The Flare takes a while to move to your brain," The Rat Man replied. "And as I said earlier, the Trials were a success. We discovered the Cure, and have faculties and labs mass producing it right now. Those of you who are not immune will be cured by tonight. The shipment of the chemical will arrive in an hour. You have nothing to worry about. That goes for all of you."

He shuffled his papers again. "That being said, those who aren't immune have nothing to worry about. I'm going to read the list of names of those who will require the Cure. Newt…."

He continued to read names and around him people gained shocked and sad faces. Thomas heard the man talk but his voice didn't reach him. All he could think of was that one name. His best friend had not been immune.

Thomas leaned over, resting his head in his hands. He felt someone on the right elbow him.

"Sit up, you shank. I'm not bloody done yet." Newt. Thomas looked up at the blond and saw a genuine smile on his face.

"What if they didn't have the Cure?" Thomas asked. "What then?"

"Then you'd have to shoot me so I wouldn't suffer like the rest of the unfortunate Cranks. You don't have to worry, Tommy. I'm going to be okay." Newt rolled his eyes.

On the other side of Newt Minho had leaned forward. "Glad you love this shank so much. Are you guys going to propose now? I'll be the best man."

"You can be the shuckin' maid of honor," Newt replied.

The Rat Man began speaking again, and everyone turned to hear him. "We do have two more matters to discuss before I leave you. One is the matter of your future. After everyone has been cured you'll need to stay here. You'll pick one of the jobs we have. Now that we have a Cure we need to give it to people. We'll be assigning teams of Munies and the Cured to go and administer it. We also need people in the labs to produce more of the Cure and to try and create a vaccine for the Flare. The third job option is building; with people being cured we'll need to rebuild cities to keep the Cranks out."

"I thought we have a Cure," Frypan said. "So why would we need to keep Cranks out if we can give them the cure?"

"The Cure only works of those who are in the early to medium stages of the Flare. Those past Gone are too damaged to be saved. That's why we need as many teams as we can get to start administering the Cure. We need to save as many people as we can, and so we'll need to work quickly and efficiently. Now the second matter I need to speak to you about is your memories." He paused.

A foreboding silence spread across the room. Everybody glanced at each other. Thomas knew what they were all thinking—did they want to remember? And if they did, would their friends hate them once they received their memories?

"You don't have to get the Swipe removed. It's a choice. Many of you will want to wait, to have time to think it over. Well, we have lots to do and so if you don't do it when we offer it in a few days you'll have to wait until after the Cure is spread."

The Rat Man stood up. "If you want to talk to me more, just ask for Assistant Director Janson. I'll be leaving for now. I'll be back for those who need the Cure later, and we'll do the memory Swipe after everyone is cured. For now there are beds and showers and food is coming. Remember—WICKED is good."

He walked out of the room and it exploded as everyone started to talk all at once. Everyone except Thomas, who was still taking it all in.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: James Dashner owns The Maze Runner books, characters and everything else

Rating: T for Glade language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Like the first chapter this has more dialogue than action, but if you stick with me I promise there's some excitement next chapter. To all those who reviewed/followed/favorited, thanks for your support, it really means a lot to me.

Chapter 2

"I don't trust them one little bit," was the first thing out of Minho's mouth.

"Why can't I be a cook?" Frypan asked.

"Tom? What do you think?" Teresa said.

All this was said at once, and it quite overwhelmed Thomas. He sat back, mind reeling from what he had just learned. He glanced over at Newt, who was sitting quietly, deep in thought.

"I—I don't know," Thomas admitted. "It seems like it's true, but we've been deceived before. On the other hand, if we can save lives then why wouldn't we?"

"I don't want my shucking memories back, that I know for sure," Minho declared. "I saw what those did to Gally and Alby, and I don't want to sacrifice myself to Grievers because of it. I think we should escape this place, find out what's really in the world."

I wrote that 'WICKED is good' on my arm but why? I don't trust them, Tom. I agree with Minho—we need to see what we're really up against." Teresa was gazing at him intensely. Thomas didn't like it; he still hadn't forgiven her for what she did in the Scorch Trials. But she did have a point.

"I do kinda want my memories back," Frypan said. "Even if they are a load of klunk at least I'll remember a world before Grievers and monsters and mazes and Cranks. I just don't trust them."

Why did everyone expect Thomas to know what was going on? He was even more confused than they were. At least one thing he _was_ sure—he didn't want his memories back. If he had ever worked for WICKED then he was sure he'd hate himself.

"What do you think, Newt?" Thomas looked at the quiet boy who was staring at his calloused hands.

"I'll follow you, Tommy. You know what you're bloody doing better than I do."

"I don't want to run away. I just want to be able to trust someone," Frypan said quietly. "I miss the Glade a little. I mean, I hated the place but at least things were simple back then. I had a huge family of brothers who were going to protect me. I could cook to my heart's delight and I could trust everyone. Now we've gone from the shuckin' frying pan into the klunk."

Thomas had to agree. He missed Frypan's cooking and running through the Maze. He missed all the boys he never had a chance to really get to know, and he missed his relationship with Teresa before she betrayed him. Things were so complicated now.

"If we're going to escape we need weapons and supplies. Until we get those we might as well kiss our rebel dreams goodbye." Thomas looked straight at Minho. "Find those and we can bust out."

"What about Newt?" Teresa asked. "If we go he'll never get the Cure. And what about the world? If we left now hundreds of people could die from the Flare. We have the tools to save the world; we just need to use them."

They were silent for a minute as they thought. Newt was the first to speak up.

"Tommy and Minho are my best friends, but they're also the leaders. I'll follow them wherever whenever. Even if it means dying of the Flare. I'd prefer to wait until I'm Cured, but if the opportunity arises before then I'll do my bloody best to get us out of here."

"We're getting you the Cure, Newt, that's final." Minho spoke with a rare hint of compassion. "Then after you're all set we'll get out of this place. We've been to worse places and survived. Much as I hate to agree with that shuck over there—" he pointed to Teresa "—we have to get out."

"I think we should stay and help," Thomas said sincerely. "We should help spread the Cure. Then on one of our missions we could 'die' and instead escape. But we need to help the world first. WICKED is right in saving as many people as we can."

A noise that sounded like a high-pitched bell bursted from speakers in the wall and several people in hazmat suits brought in trays of food. Fruits, vegetables, pizza, meat, chips—it was all there. Water and juice bottles followed the procession of food.

At the same time another announcement came. "Those who require the Cure should go down the B Hallway. The rest of you may eat."

A door labeled "Hallway B" opened and a few of the boys and girls drifted reluctantly towards it. No one went through it, though. Newt slowly stood up.

"I'll you shanks later," he said. "Guess it's time to be experimented on."

He walked over to the hallway, passed the reluctant others, and kept going through the open doorway. The others shuffled behind him, and he never looked back.

Newt returned three days later. Thomas and Minho had showered, ate, and dressed in fresh clothes during that time and were feeling very refreshed. They had discussed with clear minds about WICKED, the Flare, and their future. Not once had they mentioned the past, however, or even talked about why it was taking their best friend so long to return.

He stepped through the doorway into the cafeteria where the Rat Man, or Janson, had talked with the group. Food was delivered everyday and he had arrived just in time for lunch.

Thomas was surprised when he sat down, haggard and weary, purple bags under his eyes. His eyes themselves were cloudy, but he spoke like the same old Newt.

"Be lucky you shanks are immune," he said. "The klunk they forced into my system was worse than the Changing. Lasted a lot longer, too. On the bright side now that I've been cured I'll never catch the bloody Flare again." Newt pulled as much food toward him as he could. "The slintheads never gave us any food during the process."

"Glad Mr. Sunshine could finally join us," Minho said. "Thomas and I were thinking we might have finally rid ourselves of you."

Shucks," Thomas muttered. He was slightly worried about Newt, but if he was cured then it was worth it. An overwhelming sense of relief had washed over since the moment Newt had stuck his head back into his sight. Thomas didn't know what he would do if anything happened to the guy. He'd lost so many friends already…

Newt ate like he hadn't eaten anything ever before. Then he stood up, teetering a little on his feet. "A hot shower then bed for this tired shank, then I'm going to sleep." He started stumbling towards the dormitory, his limp showing more than usual. Thomas wondered about his limp.

"Minho," he said quietly once Newt was out of earshot. "Do you know how Newt hurt his leg?"

Minho looked up sharply. "Only soul who had the slightest idea was Alby, and he's dead. Don't think Newt ever told him the truth either. When he wants to tell us shanks he will. Just don't mention it, okay?"

His protectiveness startled Thomas. Minho was sassy and sharp, full of unpredictable anger. Defending his friends wasn't uncommon, but this was beyond his normal bounds. Something really had messed Newt up in the Maze, and it wasn't just the usual Grievers and dangers.

"I'm glad he's better, but don't tell him I said that." Thomas bit into an apple. Minho smirked.

"Okay, boss. Would you like fries with that?"

Thomas elbowed him in the side before going back to the dorm. He passed out instantly and didn't wake up until the alarm went off, blaring its warning as loud as it could.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: James Dashner owns everything. Including my heart and soul (not that I'm happy about it...)

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Finally some action! Sorry about the boring first two chapters, but I had to set up the scene and explain things. Now the plot thickens a little. On another note, have you guys seen the Maze Runner movie? It was really good even though it was different and the casting was amazing but I was only able to notice Newt's limp once when he was running through the Maze. What are your thoughts on it?

Chapter 3

Thomas sat straight up. The red lights were flashing and his head started to ache. He vaguely saw bodies stumbling in the dark, and the beams of flashlights flashing about. He heard a loud thump and a curse, and suddenly Minho was yanking him off of the mattress.

"Run, you shuck-faced slinthead!" Minho screamed over the alarm. "Cranks everywhere! And they're long past Gone."

Thomas stumbled forward. Newt had appeared on his right side sometime, and was looking significantly better than the evening before. Despite his limp the boy could still run faster than most of the Gladers, a legacy left over from his days as a Runner. He kept pace with Thomas as Minho led the whole lot of Gladers and the girls through the halls of the WICKED headquarters.

"Cranks busted in last night. Made it through three levels of guards! They're killing slintheads and shanks alike, and there's no stopping them. Frypan's got a map and he's leading us to the weapons bay. Along the way we're dropping off some of the girls and the more injured." Minho never stopped running as he spoke, but Thomas could hear a slight breathlessness in his tone. They hadn't run like Runners in a while, and the lack of exercise was catching up to them.

They reached a room that looked like a cell with concrete walls and one window with metal bars. Frypan searched for some keys and unlocked it, then allowed anyone who didn't want to fight in. Teresa hesitated at the door, looking between the girls and Thomas before stepping in.

"Some of us will have to stay here for self defense," she said. Harriet and Sonya followed her example and Frypan himself stepped in before handing the keys off to Newt.

"Bring us some weapons before you join the fight," he instructed. "In case we need them." With a nod Minho, Thomas, Newt, and the others who had volunteered to fight sprinted down the hallway. They turned left and found a cracked door. Black-clad guards were running about inside grabbing weapons. They had large Launchers, which shot off grenades of crackling electricity to stun, and pistols that would kill. The Gladers ran in and took as much as they could each. The guards didn't care, just shouted at them to help reinforce Hallways D and G.

One of the boys ran back to the cell with a handful of Launchers and pistols, and the rest of them followed Minho to Hallway D. The alarm increased in its frequency the closer they came.

Thomas didn't need a sign to tell him that they were in the right spot. He saw a line of the WICKED guards firing ahead, and based on the screaming sounds he knew that a whole army of Cranks were fighting them. He rushed forward, followed by his friends, and they joined the frenzy.

Every once in a while a guard would slip away from the line to go retrieve more ammo. Another would replace him and continue firing ahead. From the back of the line it was difficult to see where to shoot, but the Gladers were slowly rotated to the front.

What Thomas saw made him sick. There were dozens of crazy Cranks with old rifles and pistols shooting wildly and aimlessly at the guards while screeching insults. All visible skin was covered in red sores and their clothes were ripped to shreds. Even more sickening was the mound of bodies that lay in between them. Dozens more of Cranks and guards alike were lying motionless on the ground. Some of the bodies were twitching from the Launchers, and others were missing entire limbs. It was horrifying.

Thomas kept shooting and shooting. He would always close his eyes as he pulled the trigger, and he could never bear to look his next target in the eye. He hated killing others, even if it was necessary. Based on the look of disgust that graced Newt's face beside him, the Glader was also feeling horrible.

When he finally ran out of grenades to shoot out of his Launcher and the chamber of his pistol was empty he ducked underneath the guards behind him and ran to the end of the hallway. He turn the corner just enough so that he couldn't see the fight and he dropped his weapons. Thomas hadn't realized how much he was sweating, and he placed his forehead against the cool metal wall. He felt sick to his stomach and wanted nothing but to go back to the Maze where death was so much more unnecessary.

A few minutes later he felt a hand upon his shoulder. "It's okay, Tommy. We're done. You don't have to go back there."

He could still hear the fight in the background but it was quieter, as if the Cranks had finally been put down enough that the guards had the advantage. Thomas smashed his fist against the wall as tears slid down his face.

"Why is there so much death?" he cried. "Everyone around me dies. And what about those Cranks? What if I used to know any of them? What if one of them was my mom? How would I know?"

"They wouldn't be the same person you would have known. There was nothing we could do about them. Putting them out of their misery was the kindest thing to do. They were suffering and you helped them save themselves." Newt's voice sounded oddly mellow.

"It doesn't feel like that." Thomas tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"Doing the right thing often hurts. It almost never feels like the right thing. One day you'll realize it, and then things will get easier. You just can't give up. If we had given up during the Maze Trials or the Scorch Trials then we would all be bloody dead and there would be no Cure. Because we kept going and doing the right thing WICKED was able to make a Cure and we'll be able to save millions from the fate that just befell those unfortunate Cranks." Newt sighed, and sat down against the wall. Thomas followed suit.

"Newt?"

"Ya, Tommy?"

"Thanks for never giving up on me. For always leading me or following me. For helping me become a Runner." Thomas hadn't ever told Newt that, and he felt like the boy deserved it.

Newt smiled a little. "Getting us out of that bloody Maze was repayment enough. I hated that place so much."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Minho and the others appeared. "Battle's over, you lazy slintheads. Let's go unlock the other shanks."

Thomas stood up and reached out a hand to help Newt up. He had just started running when he saw a familiar face coming towards them from down the hall. Brown hair and eyes and shameless face.

Brenda.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: James Dashner owns all this

Rating: T for Glader language, violence and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: I wasn't supposed to update until tomorrow but it's midnight on New Years here so I updated because it technically is tomorrow! Hope you all have a fantastic 2015!

Chapter 4

Brenda ran forward towards Thomas. She was wearing a white lab jacket and had a face mask and a pair of goggles strung around her neck, and when she enveloped him into a hug he noticed she smelled like sterile wipes and medicine.

He was too stunned to do more than loosely move his arms around her back and when she stepped back she wore a slightly hurt and slightly relieved expression.

"B-Brenda?" he said, stumbling over the words. "Where'd you come from? Why are you here? What—"

"I work for WICKED," she replied. "But that's not important right now. We need to go. There are Cranks everywhere. Assistant Director Janson called for an evacuation to the Lower Levels."

"We need to get the others first," Minho scowled, dangling the cell keys in his hand. "Then we'll decide if we can trust you."

"Okay, let's move quickly. Where are they?" Brenda pulled a pistol out of her jacket pocket and kept it closely brandished at her side.

"The cell by Hallway B," Thomas said. She nodded and started running forward. The guys had no choice so they followed her.

As they neared the hallways the sounds of a fight grew louder. Thomas' heart sank, and he felt bile rise up in his throat; he didn't want to have to hurt another person. Unfortunately it seemed the only way to get to the others was to fight their way through a few dozen Cranks.

"How did the Cranks assemble so many bloody people for an attack?" Newt asked.

"I'm not entirely sure, but rumor is that WICKED had an experimental town full of Cranks close by and despite the heavy guarding they broke free and decided to exact revenge." Brenda stopped at a corner suddenly and Thomas ran right into her before being able to stop. She lowered her voice. "Up ahead there's a few dozen. The guards are being overwhelmed, but that's the only way to get to your friends…" She trailed off.

"Do you think the Cranks already got to the others?" Thomas wondered.

"If they have weapons they were probably able to hold their position, at least for a while," Brenda replied. "The Cranks are pretty much armed with pitchforks and shovels, with a few odd guns and knives. We still have a chance but it will be a fight."

Thomas didn't want to go back into the frenzy of battle. He didn't want to kill or even hurt anyone. He just wanted to save the world.

"We all have to make sacrifices, Tommy," Newt said quietly in his ear. "If we want to save our friends we have to go through them. Besides, it's more merciful to put them out of their misery."

Thomas took a deep breath in and exhaled. "Let's go."

The next few minutes were a blur of screaming and blood and fire. Thomas shot as many with as good accuracy as he could. Beside him Brenda and Newt were also fighting, as were Minho and a few others. They fought for every foot of the hallway, and they inched their way towards the cell.

Thomas was relieved when he saw explosions coming from inside the cell room. That meant for the moment the others were still alive and fighting.

Brenda was the first to enter through the doorway. The room was filled with Cranks, although most of them were pressing against the cell. It was easy to mow them down, though every bullet and grenade that shot from his weapons hurt Thomas even more. Finally they were all lying motionless on the ground, with the exception of one in the corner. He was particularly ugly, small tufts of hair randomly popping up on his scalp where there weren't welts and boils. Several of his fingers were missing from his mangled hand, and one of his eyes was simply an empty socket. He tilted his head at them and smiled, his skin stretching tauntly against his skull.

"You'll never win," he rasped. "There's too many of us. Humanity is doomed. Except for the fact that we lost our humanity years ago."

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked. "How did we lose our humanity?"

"The Flare was a man-made virus, boy. It was accidentally released during the panic that followed the sun flares. Or so they say, if you believe their lies." He laughed, a choking and horrible sound. "WICKED is not good."

One of the boys behind Thomas raised his gun and fired, hitting the man straight in his forehead. The man slumped, but his laughter never left Thomas' ears.

Newt released the others from the cell, and Thomas noticed Brenda staring at Teresa. He wasn't able to identify the look on her face. It seemed dangerous, though.

Brenda leapt into action as soon as everyone was out. "Okay, we need to get to the Lower Levels. It's safe from the Cranks down there."

Everyone followed her down a few hallways. Fights were still ongoing but they didn't stop to help. They were survivors, and to survive they needed to run.

Once again Brenda suddenly stopped. This time Thomas saw panic and horror in her eyes. "No," she whispered.

In front of them was a door that was bashed in. It looked like it had all sorts of security systems but they were all broken and there was a bloody trail going through.

"That's the entrance to the Lower Levels," Brenda said. "Looks like the Cranks managed to bust in there."

"So what do we bloody do now?" Newt replied forlornly. He glanced between Thomas and Brenda.

"Jorge," she replied suddenly, her eyes flashing. "He works here too. He's a pilot. We can get a Berg and get out of the building." Brenda turned and started sprinting down the hallway. "Come on! I just hope the hanger hasn't been taken over yet."

Thomas reluctantly turned and started following her. He wasn't sure about her, now that she had told him she worked for WICKED, but they didn't really have any other option.

They passed the cell room and the weapons room and kept running until they reached a large door. It was closed, but Brenda had an access card which she swiped through the sensor. The door opened and everyone quickly filed through.

Jorge was sitting by one of the Bergs, fiddling with something in his hand. He looked up when they started walking towards him.

"I suppose you want a ride out of here," he sighed.

"Of course." Brenda squeezed his shoulder as she passed him. "Cranks are everywhere. They breached the Lower Levels, so we're not safe anywhere."

"Janson, Paige, and some of their buddies took one of the other pilots and a Berg," Jorge informed her, standing up. "They escaped. Told me to fly any survivors out. Guess that would be you guys."

He unlocked the Berg and the platform lowered. Everyone stepped in and Jorge went straight to the cockpit. Most of the boys and girls settled in a room full of couches on the far end, and Newt, Thomas, Minho, Teresa, and Brenda sat in the room between the cockpit and the room on the far end.

"Minho?" Thomas heard Newt say. "You've been awfully quiet lately."

Thomas turned around just in time to see the boy collapse on the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If I owned this I could go to the set of the movie and meet Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Dylan O'Brien. If I met them I would die of happiness. Since I'm not dead it means I don't own this.

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: I've had some requests for Thomesa (Thomas and Teresa) but I haven't really shipped them since TMR. Actually, I don't ship Thomas with anyone and I kinda ship Newt and Teresa. Since I have such weird ships I probably won't do much with them in this story, so sorry to anyone looking for romance and fluff. That would be a different fic ;)

Also, now that school is starting again my free time is greatly decreased. I'm going to try and update on Sundays and Wednesdays, starting this Wednesday. I wrote an extra long chapter to hold you until then.

Chapter 5

"Bloody hell!" Newt cursed before kneeling by the fallen boy. Minho was completely still, his eyes closed. Thomas and Teresa also kneeled by him.

Teresa went to work immediately, pulling the zipper on his jacket down and gently taking it off. The entire right side of Minho's torso was stained crimson and it was still bleeding.

"He's losing too much blood," Teresa said. "We need to stop the bleeding. Infection will probably be setting in, too."

"Remember when you were shot in the Scorch?" Newt added, looking Thomas' way. "The weapon was all rusty and old. We need to get him to a medical facility immediately."

"WICKED has a medical lab about an hour away," Brenda put in. She started walking towards the cockpit. "I'll get Jorge to set course."

"Will he live that long?" Thomas asked worriedly.

"He better," Teresa replied. She stood up and started searching for a first aid kit. "Find where the wound is. If it's a bullet wound then we need to get the bullet out. If it's a knife wound we need to disinfect it as best as we can."

Thomas and Newt exchanged gross expressions before lifting the blood-soaked shirt up. Sure enough, it was a bullet wound. The bullet had hit him right in the side and created a furrow through his skin. The furrow was deep but shallow enough that they could see part of the bullet sticking into his skin.

"It's a bullet," Thomas told Teresa. She returned and set down some fabric, a bowl of water, and disinfectant chemicals. She also put down a sharp scalpel and a roll of bandaging.

"This is going to hurt," she said. "I'm glad he's out of it."

She dipped the cloth into the water and started gently cleaning the blood away. Thomas and Newt each took and one and started helping her. Soon the area was clean enough to work with.

Teresa picked up the scalpel and started moving it towards the bullet in Minho. Thomas stood up and excused himself to get fresh water. He didn't think he had the stomach to watch the procedure.

When he returned it was done. Teresa and Newt were using the disinfectant chemicals to clean the wound. Thomas set the water bowl down and helped them. Then Newt held a wadded up cloth to the wound to stop the bleeding while Thomas and Teresa cleaned up the rest of the blood. When they finished Teresa wrapped up the injury with the bandages. Then she sat back and exhaled deeply.

"I think he'll be okay," she said.

"Thanks," Newt told her. "I know that shank didn't like you much but that was really kind of you."

"All life is worth saving," she replied. Thomas couldn't get that out of his head. He'd had trust issues since she had betrayed him during the Scorch Trials, but she had just saved his best friend's life. Maybe he was just overreacting during the whole thing. They had all made it out alive in the end, and that was what really mattered, right?

But what about Brenda? Thomas couldn't stop thinking about her either. Was she still good, even though she worked for WICKED? And what about the Scorch Trials? How much had she lied about?

His head ached. He didn't want to think. He wanted to curl up and sleep and escape from the world.

Newt must have sensed his discomfort. "Take a nap, Tommy. I'll wake you up when we get to the bloody facility."

Thomas sat down hard on a couch and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Brenda was the one to wake him up. "We're here. Jorge just landed."<p>

Thomas sat up and rubbed his eyes. Everything was slightly off-kilter but he managed to stand up. "Okay."

She stared at him for a minute. Brenda opened her mouth to say something and closed it, evidently taking it back. "Minho's this way."

Newt had found a stretcher in the Berg and Thomas helped him lift their unconscious friend onto it. Teresa had checked his vitals and said he was barely stable. He needed help right away.

Jorge accompanied them to the door. The entire building was white cement and it towered several stories high and hundreds of meters out to the sides. It was huge. The door was like a tiny little gate into a large paradise. Except it wasn't a paradise.

There was a little doorbell which Brenda rang, and a woman's voice came from an unseen speaker. "_State your name and business, please_."

"I'm Thomas, and my friends are Newt, Minho, Teresa, Brenda, and Jorge. We escaped from the WICKED headquarters about an hour ago and one of our friends was hurt."

"_I'm sorry, we can't allow anyone who has come in contact with the Flare inside_," the voice replied.

"No! We're all either immune or Cured! Please!" Thomas' voice had gone from calm to desperate. They needed to get Minho medical attention _now_.

"_We'll need to confirm that_." The door opened to reveal a small hallway and another door at the end. "_Please step through the sensor. When you're all cleared you may enter. We'll have medics ready for your friend_."

"We also have others back in our Berg," Teresa said quickly. "Can they be checked in a few minutes?"

The voice simply said, "_You may proceed_."

Thomas and Newt exchanged glances before hoisting the stretcher up a little and carefully stepping through. The sensor turned green and they stepped back to allow the others to do the same. Teresa lingered by the outside door.

"I'm going back to get the others," she told them. "You go on ahead. I'll be right back."

As soon as she stepped away the door to the outside doors closed and the one that led to the inside opened. Four doctors in scrubs rushed in, slid a stretcher with wheels under Minho and pulled it away. They ran down the hall checking his vitals and yelling things to one another.

Thomas looked at each of his friends. They were slightly in shock at how fast the doctors had been.

"What do we do now, _muchachos_?" Jorge asked.

"We wait for Teresa and the others. We'll go on from there." Thomas slid down the wall to a sitting position. The others followed suit. They sat in silence, the walls and doors of the hallways the only thing to keep them occupied.

About ten minutes later the door behind them opened and Frypan and Teresa came through followed by the others. Thomas stood up to greet them. As he was talking Newt tapped his shoulder.

Turning around, Thomas saw two people striding toward them. One was a guard with a Launcher in his hand, the other a women in a burgundy skirt, jacket, and a white shirt. Her heels clicked as she walked and her dark brown hair was in curls that were tied back.

"We're glad you could make it out of there," she said in greeting. "I'm Dr. West, the overseer of this facility. I most sincerely apologize about the complications to get in here, but you know how it is. We can't afford the Flare to infect our little community."

She extended a hand toward Thomas. "I've heard so much about all of you! We've met before, Thomas, though I don't think you remember. It was ages ago. I'm sorry about your friend, though I assure you he is receiving the best of our medical care."

Thomas was a little stunned. "Thanks…"

"Oh, no need to thank me! It is truly an honor to help you." Dr. West scanned over the Gladers. "It appears you need food and somewhere to rest. I can supply that." She turned to her guard and said something quietly to him. He nodded and left, stepping through one of the side doors.

The woman began walking down the hall, motioning for them to follow her. She opened a different door and began to walk down another hallway and began to speak.

"You see, the threat of Cranks has been our biggest setback in researching for the Cure. However, your Maze Trial results were suburb, and that moved us along quite significantly. The Scorch Trials were the best success, and from the brain patterns that we observed we discovered a way to counteract the Flare. Some of my very own scientists in this building claimed the honors of the breakthrough."

She smiled, revealing a row of perfect teeth. Thomas wasn't sure how he felt about her. She seemed kind enough, but she worked for WICKED. Thomas decided to ask her a question.

"One of the Cranks told us that the Flare was a man-made virus that was released during the panic of the sun flares years ago. Is that true?" He looked over at her and saw her purse her lips.

"That is correct. WICKED hadn't been formed back then. The governments of several countries had been secretly allying themselves, and they had created a terrible disease. It was meant for biological warfare, but after the flares hit the Earth many nations had a meeting. The countries were called the UN, or United Nations. They invited a representative from every country, even those not part of the UN-the ones who created the terrible disease were not members-and they discussed what to do. Some countries had been almost entirely obliterated, like Mexico. Those were the countries that had a large portion of their land in the Scorch, near the equator."

"What did they decide at the meeting?" Newt had come up next to Thomas and was listening intently.

"The poorer countries couldn't take care of their inhabitants. They wanted to decrease the population in a way that didn't make them the enemy. The countries that had created the terrible disease stepped forward and said they had something. Majority ruled to release it. Unfortunately it was far more devastating than they had originally thought. The original disease could only travel through insects like mosquitoes. Millions were infected, but the Earth's population was still at a healthy five billion."

"So what happened?" Thomas felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't like where this was going.

Dr. West's voice dropped lower and sadness colored it. "The disease mutated only months after it had been released. Now it could be transmitted through the air, water, animals—practically anything. Hundreds of millions more caught it and started to die. Suicide rates went up to forty-three percent in those who were sane enough to realize they were going to suffer. It was a catastrophe. When the world learned what had happened they overthrew the current governments and elected new people. This new UN came together and decided that the only way to save the world was to create an organization dedicated to saving humanity. We've been searching for a Cure ever since. That's why the Maze Trials were set up."

"So you kidnapped immunes and a few others to stick in a Maze and experiment on?" Newt asked bitterly.

The women looked alarmed. "Heavens, no! Whether you remember it or not you or your parents agreed to let you participate. We wouldn't make you do things that you were forced to."

"What about Gally? He was forced to kill Chuck," Thomas argued. "And Teresa was forced to do the things in the Scorch Trials."

"Those were Variables, and they were the only exception to our free will policy," the doctor replied. "They were necessary to help find the Cure. You do understand, I hope."

"I understand that you forced one person to kill another," Thomas shot back.

"Sacrifice is necessary sometimes," Dr. West said. "If it hadn't been Chuck that died it would have been someone else. It's over now." She shook her head as if upset. Then she stopped in front of another door and pushed it open. Bunks surrounded a large table.

"You can stay in here until the headquarters are re-established. My assistant will be bringing your food shortly." She strode away, and though Thomas wanted to rush after her and ask more questions he instead walked into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: James Dashner owns it

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Hey! I'm back! Long time no update! Anyway, I just wanted to mention that all of the information about the Flare in the last chapter was totally made up. I just started reading The Kill Order and already I've noticed some differences...but this is AU, so you should've expected that.

This chapter has lots of "food for thought" so to speak, and I hope you can pick up on things! Enjoy reading and don't forget to check back on Sunday!

Chapter 6

Dr. West returned the next day. She was wearing grey today, and her dark hair was tied up in a strict bun. The doctor seemed even tenser than the day before.

"Your friend is doing well," she reported. "Unfortunately the wound was infected and has to be treated with special care. He should be all right by tomorrow."

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't realize how special Minho was to him until he had been injured. The thought of losing his friend for good weighed heavily on his conscience.

"How's the headquarters?" a girl asked. Thomas recognized her as Harriet from Group B.

"Everyone who could escaped. Now they have crews cleaning up the bodies and taking care of the remaining Cranks." Her voice was tight and Thomas had the impression she wasn't telling them everything.

"Why do you say 'they'?" Teresa asked. "Aren't you referring to WICKED?"

"I may work for WICKED but it doesn't mean I agree with everything they do." Dr. West sighed. "At this facility we do not believe in experimenting on others. A.D. Janson was always the one that pushed for the Trials to continue. And if they hadn't worked…" She trailed off and then looked at Thomas. "Some people are willing to take drastic measures to save their own skin. If we hadn't found the Cure by simply observing your brain patterns during the Trials then he would have gone to ridiculous measures."

"Like what?" Newt said, crowding in closer to listen.

"Like taking your brains and dissecting them, observing the tissues and different parts. You all would have died, as they would have gone from person to person, brain to brain until they had found the Cure. Our community, however, feels that observing should be the limit. All of you agreed to participate in the Maze Trials and have your memory swiped, but none of you agreed to the Scorch Trials or the third one. We were upset and protested to Chancellor Ava Paige. I told them it violated the contracts and agreements."

"So why were we forced to do them?" a girl called Sonya asked.

"She told us that they were very close. We told them to continue if they one hundred percent sure that a cure could be found. If it wasn't then we would join The Right Arm, which is a resistance group." Dr. West shifted in her posture. "Janson was horrified. He called for all of us to be killed, to be executed most unpleasantly. Fortunately for us Ava is quite a bit more compassionate. She told him it was only natural for some doubt to exist."

"Why is he so…uptight?" Thomas said. "He's always sneering or threatening us."

Dr. West lowered her voice. "Rumor is that he had the Flare in its early stages. He was desperate for the Cure. He would have gone to any length to get it. Luckily we found it before it became a problem."

She shook her head sadly. "I'm also here for another reason." Dr. West held out a clipboard that Thomas hadn't noticed before. "WICKED plans to continue its original goal—to spread the Cure and save the world. There are three different jobs to choose from. I need everyone to sign their name on the list of the job they want. Please remember to include your friend Minho."

Handing the clipboard to Newt she turned and walked away. Her shoulders clenched inward as she walked and she had her arms crossed uncharacteristically. When she was out of earshot Thomas shared a look with Newt.

"Was she crying?" he asked. The girls had a concerned look on their faces, though no one answered his question.

"We're not being told anything," Harriet proclaimed.

"You don't trust her?" Teresa asked.

"I'm not sure. She seems different than all the rest." Harriet shrugged. "Well, are you guys gonna sign your names and pass it on or just stare at it dumbfounded for the rest of your lives?"

Newt looked down at the clipboard and read it silently. Then he picked up the pen and slowly scrawled his name on the first list before passing it on to Thomas.

Thomas saw that the first list was labeled "Spreading Cure to Cranks". The second on was "Working in Labs" and the third read "Building and Salvaging". Thomas followed Newt's example and wrote his name under the first list. He was going to stay with his friend through it all.

He started to pass the paper on but pulled it back quickly, remembering what the lady had said. Then he wrote Minho's name below his.

The list slowly circulated the room. It made its way back to Thomas and he and Newt took the opportunity to scan it over. Harriet, Sonya, Teresa, Brenda, and a few others had signed onto the first list. Frypan had decided to be a Builder, and a few others had chosen the other two options.

"Looks like we're losing some of our old shanks. Not that I blame them. There would have been a time I would have chosen the safety of a lab or the simplicity of a bloody Builder," Newt stated. Thomas had to agree.

"But we're Runners, and that means we have to take the most dangerous path," Thomas agreed. "Minho would have agreed with us."

"You still think I have it in me to be a Runner, Tommy? Even with my limp?" Newt gave him a sideways look.

"Of course. You've always been able to run as fast as me, and your leg doesn't affect your brain. You're one of the smartest we have, and no matter what WICKED thinks the Glue is you're the one who has held us together this whole time. Without you all of us Gladers would have turned on each other. You've always volunteered to do the dangerous work and you've never given up." Thomas looked at his friend. "Besides, who would hold Minho in check if you weren't there?"

Newt smiled. "Yeah, he'd probably tear this bloody place down. Ruling the Maze for two years kind of got to his head, if you know what I mean. He's got more buggin' pride than anyone else I ever knew, except maybe Nick."

"Who was he, anyway? I heard he was the leader before Alby but no one ever talked about him much."

"When the first group of us was shoved into the Box and sent to the Maze he was the first to step out and check it out. He said, 'Nothing to worry about, 'specially now that Nick's here.' Then he started bossing us around. No one argued, we just followed his orders. In a strange place with strange people it felt good knowing there was someone to take care of us. He was full of pride, though, and that's what killed him. He wasn't a Runner but he thought the Maze could be conquered. He died after Chuck came to us. About two years he was our leader." Newt smiled. "Never knew someone who could pack so many instructions in one sentence."

"Sounds like a charming person," Thomas said sarcastically.

"He had his rough spots but I doubt we could have been successful without him. We were like lost sheep and he became the Shepard. A harsh one, at that, though we all forgive him."

They sat in silence for a while. Thomas had closed his eyes and been about to drift off to sleep when he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He opened them and saw Brenda looking down at him.

"Can we talk?" she asked. "Because we really need to." Her face left no room for objections, which slightly terrified Thomas.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: James Dashner

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Here's the promised update! Hope you guys like it, even if it's not as exciting as some of the other chapters

Chapter 7

Thomas followed Brenda out to a secluded corner away from the general hubbub of the Gladers. She sat down against the wall and he followed suit. For a moment they sat in an awkward silence.

"You don't trust me anymore," she said quietly.

"You work for WICKED," Thomas replied. "I don't trust them."

"I was working for them during the Scorch Trials and you trusted me then. Why is it any different now that you know?" Brenda looked genuinely hurt and Thomas felt a pain of guilt.

"I don't know who I can trust, honestly. When we were in the Maze I trusted the Gladers. Then Gally turned on me. During the Scorch Trials I trusted Teresa and you and she betrayed me. Now we're here and I learn you've been with WICKED the whole time! It seems no one is telling me the entire truth." Thomas ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"When the government was testing people to see if they were Munies or had the Flare I was separated from my family. I was sent to a safe camp where I met Jorge, and he took care of me like an uncle. WICKED approached us and asked us if we wanted a job. We were immunes and they needed us. With nothing else to do we accepted the job." Brenda sighed. "I was working in the labs for a little while until they asked if we wanted to do something special. We agreed and that's how we ended up in the Scorch. I really don't know much about WICKED; I just work towards saving the world."

"That's it?" Thomas asked. "That is all you want to do?"

"My parents weren't immune and I saw my father get shot because he didn't want me to leave him. If I can spare others from the same fate then I will. No one deserves to suffer when we can help them." Brenda put her hand on his arm. "And when we're done helping WICKED we can escape. All the Gladers can come too. We'll go live somewhere else and the world will go on because we helped them. We have the opportunity to save so many lives."

Thomas was struck by how much she sounded like Teresa. Both of them were committed to saving the masses of Cranks (not that that was bad). Both had worked for WICKED and while neither of them trusted the organization they believed that the end goal was right and was achievable. Both wanted him to trust them.

And Thomas didn't trust either of them.

"Okay," he said, and began to stand up.

"That's it?" Brenda demanded. "'Okay'?"

Thomas shrugged. "I need to talk to Newt and Minho. I've taken into account what you've said, and I trust you enough to allow you to stay."

He tried his best to ignore the pain that showed on her face. He didn't like to hurt her, but sometimes hard things had to be done. Besides, this was exactly how he treated Teresa and it was only fair both of them received the same treatment. They'd both lied to him and acted differently, and for the same excuse—WICKED told them to. And until he figured out what the organization wanted with them then he would keep everyone he didn't trust at a distance.

"Seriously, Thomas? I couldn't tell you the truth! It was all just a Variable!" Brenda stood up and took his arm to keep him from walking away. Thomas stared at her levelly.

"That's exactly what Teresa said," he replied. When he took a step away Brenda let go and he didn't look back as he continued to walk. He was too afraid of what he might see in her expression and too scared of what she might say.

* * *

><p>Minho returned later that afternoon. He was looking healthier than he had in a while and he announced that he didn't feel any pain. However his gloating soon ended when he saw the expressions on Thomas and Newt's faces.<p>

"Who died? You're all so glum and serious," he complained.

"They're going to put us in groups and start making us administer the Cure," Newt said. "And Tommy here found out some things about members of our group."

Thomas relayed his conversation with Brenda to the two Gladers. They listened intently and when he finished they had nothing to say for a while. Finally Minho spoke up.

"I don't think WICKED trusts us either, and I don't know what to do with this information. All we can do is follow along with their plan and get the Cure to as many Cranks as possible. Then we can start a revolution or whatever you want to do."

Newt stood up. "We should tell everybody that. Without the last part, of course. The shanks deserve to know what we know. We've been together through all these bloody Trials and it's only right to keep them updated."

The three called a Gathering and told everyone the plan. Most of the Gladers and girls agreed, though there wasn't really any other option.

They were just finished when Dr. West strode in. She seemed like she was trying extra hard to keep a straight face. Every day her confidence had declined since they had arrived and Thomas was trying to figure out what could be bothering her so.

"Tomorrow the Chancellor is coming to organize you into groups. Those of you who chose to work in the lab will stay here with me. It will be an honor to work with all of you. Those who chose Spreading the Cure or Building will be leaving with her. Tonight we will have a big dinner in the main hall with all the scientists working in this facility and you can say your goodbyes." She sniffed and straightened up a little more. "I know all of you have been through so much together and the last thing you deserve is to be split up. However this is the way of life, and I hope you all know that what you're doing is invaluable. All of you are worth so much, and we could never repay you for your service to the world."

The doctor looked over everyone. "No matter what job you chose you are all heroes."

She turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Everyone gave each other strange looks. Thomas looked to his friends and Newt and Minho exchanged glances.

"She's different from the others," Newt said. "She's never once told us the bloody phrase: 'WICKED is good.'"

"Something's really upsetting her," Minho agreed. "Seemed like she was about to cry the entire time."

"That's because she was," Thomas stated, and understanding had finally dawned on him. "All the other WICKED leaders we've met have treated us as subjects, as just an experiment. She sees us as human beings, as children."

"I think you're right, Tommy," Newt said. "If only there were more people like her in the buggin' world."

"If there were more people like her in the world then the Flare would have never been created," Minho said bitterly. "Then we wouldn't have even needed WICKED in the first place."

"Right that," Thomas agreed.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Not my book, not my characters, just my plot and my feels

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Hey, it has been a few days. Apparently the less sleep I get the better I write. Weird how that works, but the more exhausted I am the more chapters I'm able to write. Anyways, I think you guys won't be disapointed in this chapter. There are some goodbyes, and some warnings, though I think you'll be able to finally decide how you feel about certain characters.

Chapter 8

The Gladers were led by a secretary to the main cafeteria. About half of the seats had already been taken, though scientists and other workers were still filtering in periodically as they finished up their shifts.

A podium had been set up and Dr. West stood behind it and motioned to the boys and girls to come stand beside her. They complied and exchanged looks of confusion. What was she doing? They hadn't been told about this.

When the seats were filled about seventy-five percent Dr. West tapped on the microphone politely to get everyone's attention. Conversations came to a halt as everyone looked towards the doctor.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the Gladers," she said warmly. "These are the very same teenagers that forwent the Trials and survived. They were the key to finding the Cure, and for that we have to thank them."

A thunderous applause ensued, and Thomas felt bashful. He didn't want all the attention. Looking at Minho and Newt he could see that they obviously felt the same way. All anyone had wanted was to survive. No one cared about the credit they were getting.

"Though they may not remember, these young adults gave away their childhood to help us. Many of them didn't make it, and we are truly sorry for them. It was a sacrifice that they took, and it was not in vain." More clapping and more smiles. Genuine smiles, not the fake ones the Gladers were all too familiar with.

"Tonight we are having a feast in their honor, for tomorrow many of them are leaving to help in other ways. Most of us owe them our lives, for very few among us are immune. As the dinner progresses please find time to thank them." Dr. West smiled and stepped from the podium. She politely shooed the Gladers toward the food line, which had been reserved for them to go first.

As he walked toward his food Thomas felt the stares of hundreds of people. He looked over his shoulder and saw something in everyone's eyes. Thomas couldn't quite nail it down as to what it was. Then the amazing aromas of the food reached his nose and he focused on that.

Thomas sat between Newt and Minho and across from Brenda, Jorge, Teresa and Frypan. They were all eating viciously as the food that was prepared was amazing beyond what they ever remembered. Quite often they were patted on the shoulder from behind and a voice would thank them, and then the Gladers would return the thanks before continuing to eat.

Dr. West came to them later in the meal. Thomas set down his fork and looked straight at her. "Why did you do that?"

"We didn't want the shucking attention or credit," Minho agreed. "We were just surviving."

"I didn't do it for you," she replied quietly.

"Then who was it bloody for?" Newt asked in exasperation.

"Them." The doctor waved her arms, motioning to the scientists and lab assistants and everyone else in the room. "We're a little community here. We've been in total isolation since the Trials began; the authorities were worried that if we saw what the outside world was like then we would became desperate to get the Cure and our decisions would be rash. The only—infrequent, mind you-visitors we've had are A.D. Janson and Chancellor Paige. Morale has been at dangerously low levels lately. Finding the Cure was cause for a little excitement, but the joy of accomplishment quickly faded. Now that WICKED has reached one of the main goals some of them thought that we were done. They want to go back to living normal lives. They want to raise families. We'd probably be close to a full out civil war in here between those that want to leave and those that still feel obligated to continue work if you hadn't come. Now they have reason to hope for a better world."

"We did that by simply coming here?" Teresa asked, slightly astonished.

"You guys represent so much more than survivors," Dr. West replied. Her face began to glow with excitement as she spoke. "You survived the worst of what WICKED had to throw at you. You guys stayed together through it all and emerged with bonds stronger than friendship. You're glued together because of what you've been through. That brings more hope than anything WICKED has told us. My family here has learned many lessons by watching you. Especially you three, Thomas, Newt, and Minho; you symbolize rebellion."

"Rebellion? We were never trying to overthrow WICKED." Thomas gave his friends a worried glance.

"You may not have been trying but by simply surviving you proved you were stronger than WICKED. You gave hope to all of us that one day we'll be free and WICKED will be dismantled."

Dr. West seemed genuinely happy. Thomas hated to burst her bubble.

"Why would we want to overthrow WICKED?" he asked. "They found the Cure for the Flare and they're going to help people."

"No, Thomas. _We_ found the Cure. WICKED right now is helping people and that is good, but make no mistake—WICKED is not good." Her expression darkened and her voice lowered. "Ava Paige is the leader of the organization currently. She's a good leader and is dedicated to helping the world. But Janson is second in charge, and he wants her out. For good. You've seen how he is—cruel, impatient, desperate. He's power hungry and he wants to be the head of WICKED. He'll do whatever it takes to get there."

"Why would he buggin' want that?" Newt wondered. "Why would he want to be the head of an organization that helps people?"

"He doesn't want to help people!" Dr. West exclaimed. "He wants power. WICKED is the most powerful organization in the world. They have almost unlimited finances and everything someone could ever want."

"Why doesn't the Chancellor lady just kick his butt out for good? It would save everyone from a whole bunch of unwanted klunk," Minho suggested snidely.

"She can't. He has far too many followers to be fired. Ava would need incriminating evidence against him and she doesn't have that. We can't prevent what is to come now. Too many things have been set in motion. The minute that everyone who can be cured is Cured Janson will take over. He has powerful allies that will take Ava out of the picture and throne him. Then he'll eliminate anyone who is a threat to him. He'll take over the world and no one will be able to stop him." The doctor had a sad look in her eyes.

"Why didn't anyone stop him in the first place?" Brenda asked. "Why did he even get hired?"

"Janson was brilliant. He used to be kind and generous, and the original leaders saw that. They decided to take a chance with him and for many years he was a valuable asset. Then the temptation of power and greed took over his mind. He became someone that he was not, and there's no turning back for him. He's too proud and too dangerous."

"Sounds like he didn't need the Flare to turn wacko," Minho remarked.

Dr. West nodded her head in agreement. "So you see, we need your help to tear him down. Not right now, distributing the Cure is the first priority, but when that is well on its way you'll be hearing from the Chancellor and I. Don't be surprised when our paths cross again. Unfortunately our next meeting may not be under such gentle conditions." She straighented up and started to walk away.

"Wait," Thomas shouted, catching her attention. "Why does Janson not care about the people? How could he be so far caught in his sin to forget his humanity?"

Dr. West sighed. "A wise man who lived hundreds of years ago once said that when a person sees others as only faces in a crowd instead of the individuals they lose their humanity. That is what happened, I'm afraid. Do not take this matter lightly, for I told you this as a warning. I trust you will do what is necessary in the future to secure _our_ futures."

She walked away and the table was silent as everyone tried to think about what she said. It seemed hard to believe yet no one doubted. They'd seen the worst of humanity and this was not exceeding the boundaries.

"I believe her," Newt announced quietly.

"I knew there was a reason he looked like a Rat Man," Minho said.

"We have to do something, Tom," Teresa agreed.

Thomas threw up his hands in exasperation. "I don't know! For now I suggest we do what Dr. West said and go along to our jobs. We'll follow WICKED until anything questionable comes up. Then we'll try to contact the Chancellor or her. There's nothing more we can do."

"I agree," Brenda spoke up. "That's what you've always done. You guys did normal things during normal times and when a Variable was thrown in you reacted. You survived the Trials by doing that and we can make it through this by doing that too."

"We're not giving up, that's for sure," Thomas said. "I think we can all agree on that."

"We can all also agree on warm showers and bed now," Minho put it as he stood up. "My brain hurts."

Frypan followed the boy's example. "Mine too. I'm not as smart as all of you, either."

They all plodded to their dorms, exhausted though their minds were still reeling from what they had learned.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: James Dashner owns the book and all the rights

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: I just finished The Kill Order and it was good, though it started off slow. It did give very insightful information that I'm glad I know for the next Maze Runner fanfiction I'm going to write (which I hope you will check out when I write and publish it). I hope you guys all have a good weekend and please enjoy :)

Chapter 9

Everyone said their goodbyes before they went to bed. Many of Thomas' closest friends were going to continue to work with him by Spreading the Cure but some such as Frypan were taking their lives elsewhere. Thomas was sad to see them go. The odds of seeing them again were very low, though he was sure he'd never forget them.

It was late by the time the lights were shut off and everyone had dived into bed. A new, exciting day awaited them all. Thomas doubted that anyone was actually sleeping.

"Thomas," Minho whispered from the top of the bunk. It had become a tradition for the two to share.

"Yeah?"

"Are you scared?" Minho's voice was steady though Thomas knew him well enough to hear the slight fear. For so long the Gladers had only known the Maze and everything since then had been a rush of new things and experiences. Heartbreak and humor and sorrow and joy. All sorts of emotions thrown into a jumbled mess.

"Remember when we were trapped in the Maze at night?" Thomas asked.

"How could I forget? We spanked the Griever's butts."

"Before that. When the doors first closed and you told me that we were already dead. And then when the Grievers were chasing us."

"Yeah, that was scary. Anyone else would've klunked their pants." Minho sighed.

"That's how I feel. We don't know what we signed up for. All we know is that if we make it through this then we'll have done something no one else has ever done. But I'm not scared. I'm terrified. We've been thrown into a world with things worse than Grievers chasing us and the daylight won't save us. Only we can save ourselves." Thomas knew it sounded strange. Most of what he said sounded strange. It was just what he had been thinking about and he trusted Minho to know.

"Thanks," Minho replied after a moment of silence and Thomas heard the bed frame creak above him as the boy turned over.

* * *

><p>Lights filled the room and Thomas woke to a start. Newt was in the corner flashing the light and yelling at everyone to get up. Just like in the Glade.<p>

Thomas staggered up and walked over to his friend. "Why do we have to get up now?" he asked.

"Haven't you seen the bloody time?" Newt turned his digital watch so Thomas could read it. "Ten o'clock. That Chancellor lady will be here in half an hour."

Thomas' heart sank as he remembered that everyone was parting ways today. WICKED was assigning them jobs.

"Well, whatever they throw at us can't be worse than what some people in the Glade had to do," Thomas said, remember the Slicers.

"It'll be like being a Runner again," Newt stated. "You may have liked it but not everyone else will."

Thomas shrugged. He had enjoyed his short time as a Runner. Newt had also been one before his leg injury. Minho had been the Keeper of the Runners, and he was sure Harriet and Sonya had also been in their Group.

A quick shower and Thomas was ready to go. Everyone sat on their bunks, knees bouncing in anticipation. No one knew what was to come.

A loud knock sounded on the door and several people jumped; Newt stood and opened the door slowly, reluctant to let things change. Thomas rubbed his hands together nervously.

Ava Paige walked in. She had blonde hair and had a large bag slung over her shoulder. She smiled as she looked over everyone.

"It's exciting to meet you all," she said. "Unfortunately we have little time with pleasantries. If you signed up to Spread the Cure or to Build please follow me. If you signed up to work in the labs you may remain until Dr. West otherwise directs."

With that brief speech she turned and strode out. Thomas, Newt, and Minho exchanged looks before following. They had no idea where they were going or what was going to happen, but nothing could separate them.

Chancellor Paige walked through the white hallways through the facility until they reached the door. She opened it and gestured for everyone to walk outside and they complied.

A large Berg was sitting by Jorge's. Two pilots were chilling out in front of them. Ava gathered the Gladers in a small group in front of the two flying machines.

"Those who are Spreading the Cure will come with me in the large Berg. The Builders will ride the smaller one to their first location." She paused before adding, "You all should be proud of yourselves. You are helping the world rise from the ashes of a terrible catastrophe to a new era of greatness."

Everyone loaded onto their respective Bergs. Thomas discovered why their aircraft was so big; it had a huge cargo hold filled with boxes of the Cure.

"You chose the hardest job," Ava said. She had accompanied Thomas' group. "You will be coming into contact with people, and people are the hardest variable to predict. Some will be overjoyed for the Cure and will cling to you until you cure them. Others will be past Gone and will try to kill you. Others will be distrustful and will try to stop you. You must not let them win; every second longer you take could be hundreds more of deaths."

She stopped and dug into a larger box. "Each of these bags is filled with your weapons and uniforms. All of you are to have a gun for self defense and a tranquilizer gun. You are going to be dropped into a prearranged zone. From there you will tranq as many Cranks as you can. Another team will come behind you and secure the area while you administer the Cure."

"That's it?" Newt asked. "Sounds easy."

"We will try to clear the area of those past Gone but we cannot guarantee it will be safe. Even those with minimal brain damage might still put up a fight. You guys will be paired with other Immunes and Cureds that volunteered to help. Our goal is to take one town at a time. We have teams all over the world beginning the process."

Chancellor Paige stood up. "Everyone get a bag and get changed into your uniform. Check out everything you have. We'll be touching down in twenty minutes to our first location." She walked to the cockpit, leaving the Gladers alone.

Thomas reached down at his feet and picked up a box. It had the name "Isaac Newton" scrawled across it. He tossed it toward Newt. "That's yours, I think."

Everyone scrambled around to find their box. Thomas' had "Thomas Edison" printed across it and he opened it quickly. Around him everyone was changing, though no one cared that it was in front of everyone. After being through what they'd been through together privacy was a trivial thing.

On the breast pocket of everyone's uniform was inscribed their nickname. The uniforms themselves were a pair of camouflage pants, a white T-shirt, and a camouflage jacket. Thomas remembered that it was something armies would wear.

A pistol was tucked in the belt on the left side, a tranq gun on the right. Thomas wondered what he had signed himself up for.

The pilot's com turned on and his voice echoed through the cabin. "Dropping in three!"

The cargo hold opened as the Berg hovered just above the ground and the boxes of the Cure dropped to the ground. They must've been extremely well packed to just drop them.

Thomas saw Minho start to run down the ramp, his tranq gun in his hands. Thomas cursed and followed, Newt beside him. He didn't wait to see how everyone else reacted. When he jumped to the ground he looked in front of him and saw another Berg dropping more uniformed people. Then the planes lifted up and shot off into the sky, leaving the Gladers and the others at the edge of a run down town.

Minho started to run towards them and Newt held him back. "If we're going to talk to them you better let Tommy do all the talking," the boy warned. "Remember when we first met Jorge?'

Minho smiled shamelessly though he allowed Thomas to go ahead of him. Then the two friends flanked him as they set off toward the second group.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Does anyone actually read this?

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and disturbing imagery

Author's Note: I know it's Monday and I shouldn't be updating but I don't have school so here's a free chapter for you. If it's not as exciting as you thought then I apologize. (Guess who really doesn't want to go to five hours of theatre practice?) Anyway, here's chapter 10

Chapter 10

A bigger girl with short hair came to meet them halfway. She seemed tougher than mean, though Thomas decided he would definitely not get on her bad side. As she approached them she crossed her two beefy arms across her chest.

"You're the other group?" she asked. Her voice was much lower than any other girl's that Thomas had met.

"Yeah, I'm Thomas." He then proceeded to introduce Minho and Newt.

"I'm Annie," the girl said. "We'll see how you punks shape up. I'm guessing the instructions WICKED gave you were just as vague as they gave us?"

Thomas nodded. "Basically they said to tranq everyone then give them the Cure."

"Can't be too hard. Get your group together and we'll start." Annie started to turn.

"Wait," Newt cut in. "Wouldn't it be a good idea to group the boxes of Cure together and to leave a couple of people to guard the bloody things?"

Annie thought about it for a moment. "Good idea. One of your guys and one of mine can stay. That way we know neither of us are just here to grab the Cure and run."

Thomas, Newt, and Minho jogged back to their group and told them what they had decided on. Then everyone picked up a box or two full of the Cure and started hauling across the grass to Annie's group. It took about seven minutes and by then two people had volunteered for guard duty.

Annie and Thomas walked in front and the two groups began walking towards the town. He learned she was Immune and that most of the people in her group were also. They had come from a safe camp in Alaska where WICKED recruited them.

"Wasn't much to live for in that camp," she said. "Just a random bunch of poor Munies."

"WICKED recruited me out of my childhood," he told her. "That's about all I remember."

The town came up too quickly. All conversation ended immediately and guns were at the ready. Thomas' heart raced with every step.

They walked through someone's backyard. It was run down and the grass had grown several inches tall. Rusty tools and play sets lay in pathetic pieces around them. When they emerged from the backyard and turned around the side of the house they saw that the streets were just as bad. Potholes were cracked and sprouted plants, garbage and who-knows-what-else was spread everywhere, and people were fighting over food. A few of the more sane sat at the edge of the curb, eyes glazed over as they slowly wasted away. Even the sun seemed dulled.

Thomas could see what it was like to know no hope. Out here the people had given up thinking about a long life. They just wanted another day.

Annie looked at Thomas. "Ready?" she asked. He nodded, though he was not ready at all.

The two leaders stepped out of their hiding place. At first no one noticed them but as they split in two groups, Annie leading her team down the street Thomas leading his up the street, chaos ensued.

The ones that had been fighting each other ran at the teams, eyes full of bloodlust. Thomas shot his gun and one collapsed on the ground unconscious. Then he moved up the street, calmly aiming and firing. His group followed him and a sleepy spell started the cover the town.

The two groups merged again when they had finished on the main street and then split into several groups that would go through the rest of town. Houses would have to be searched and special precautions would have to be taken in account for little children.

Thomas' group consisted of Newt, Teresa, a few of the Gladers and a guy from Annie's group named Jon. The group of about seven started to make its way down the street, knocking on doors and tranqing the people who opened and then dragging their body to the street so they could find them later.

On one house Newt knocked. This house seemed in better condition than the others and the windows were boarded up. No one answered, but Thomas was sure someone was in there.

"Try kicking it down," he advised. Newt threw his shoulder into it and it didn't budge. Rubbing his shoulder the boy said, "Something's blocking it."

Teresa moved to one of the windows and started wrestling the boards off. Everyone soon pitched in and the boards fought though they were quickly pried loose. The window was about medium size, and only Teresa could be able to fit through.

"I'm going in," she announced.

"That's the worst buggin' idea I've heard," Newt said. "If someone put in this much effort to keep people out then I'm sure there's some other nasty surprises in there."

"When we signed up they said this was a dangerous job," she replied and had Thomas helped boost her through. All was quiet for a few seconds that seemed to last for eternity and then a gunshot ripped through the house.

"Either she pulled out her pistol or someone inside had a gun," Jon remarked.

"Shuck it," Newt cursed. He and Thomas frantically started to pull off boards from the frame around the window to widen the space. Then they both crawled in, guns at the ready. Behind them the rest of their team followed.

The inside of the house was in pristine condition. A white carpet was under their feet and expensive brand couches filled the rest of the room. A large bookcase lined the wall.

Teresa's footprints were clear on the white carpet and they followed them to the ajar door. Thomas pulled it open slowly and saw a man with a rifle slung around his back holding a knife to Teresa. There was a shallow but bloody furrow on her neck that looked like something had hit it.

Thomas raised his gun. "Let her go," he snapped. The man turned around and was hit by several tranquilizer darts.

"A bit overkill," a boy muttered and Thomas went over to help Teresa up. She seemed a bit shaken, though mostly unharmed.

"The bastard shot me," she said, fingers exploring the wound on her neck. "Mostly missed me, though. He's definitely got the Flare. He thought I was some dark angel or something."

Newt had rummaged in the cabinets and tossed her a damp cloth. "Clean it up before it can get infected," he said.

Teresa smiled. "I taught you that!" She cleaned the blood off her skin. "Too bad no one has band-aids. Oh well, I'm make due."

Thomas and Jon dragged the man out of the house and into the street while the others moved on to the next house.

* * *

><p>The groups finished around five, and by then they were all tired. However, they all knew that they had to inject everyone with the Cure before they woke up.<p>

Annie had found a truck and she and a few others loaded in and hot wired the vehicle. Luckily it still had gas and they drove to the edge of town where they had left the Cure. A few minutes later they returned with a full trailer and everyone unloaded the Cure and started injecting it into everyone.

The first few people started to spasm, and then like a domino effect everyone else was too. It was like a town full of people with severe epilepsy.

"What's going on?" Thomas exclaimed. "Are they dying?" He knelt beside one and tried to check the pulse before he was smacked in the face by a flying arm.

"They're fine, Tommy," Newt said. "That's just how the bloody Cure works."

"You went through this?" Thomas asked, incredulous.

"'Course I did. The Cure's pretty damn painful."

A sound of a Berg interrupted their conversation and they saw one descend just outside of town. A few minutes later several black-clad guards came into the town carrying supplies and weapons. They stationed themselves around the edges of town after dropping off the supplies.

The two teams split the food and sleeping bags equally. The food wasn't the greatest but after a long time of working it tasted amazing.

Thomas grabbed a sleeping bag and wriggled inside it. Lulled by the sound of crickets in the summer air and the roaring of the fire he fell asleep almost immediatly.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: jAmEs DaShNeR oWnS tHiS

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Hey, guys! Nice to be back with another update, though I fear you may not like me that much when you get to the end ;) And after you finish reading this you should go to MTV Movie Brawl 2015 Elite Eight and vote for The Scorch Trials! Votes are umlimited so make sure we can secure our lead! (I've already voted about a thousand times)

Chapter 11

In the morning Thomas woke up to the sun shining right in his face. He didn't mind that much; he hadn't woken up to the sun since the Glade days, and he was almost wistful.

He saw that about half of the people in the teams were still sleeping, and the other half were squatting and eating some of the food supplies that had come the night before. He walked over to his team's pile and grabbed an apple.

When he finished he walked around the streets of the town. The bodies had stopped twitching and were sleeping. It didn't look like a peaceful sleep, though.

As he walked Thomas saw a young girl from the town sitting by one of sleeping women. She clutched a small doll in her arms and watched Thomas with wide eyes. He slowly walked toward her.

"Why are you awake?" he murmured, mostly to himself. "Probably Immune. I'm surprised they didn't have you tested."

The girl continued to watch as if her eyes were glued to him. She held her doll tighter as he came closer. She couldn't be more than two or three.

"I'm Thomas," he said, and offered his hand. She glanced at it suspiciously before darting one hand out to tap his palm. Then she cradled her doll with both hands.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "We have some food over there." Thomas pointed down the street.

"Momma," the girl said.

"Mom is sleeping," he soothed her. "She'll be awake soon. Do you want some food?"

"Thom…ees," she slowly said.

"That's right! I'm Thomas."

The girl pointed to herself, still keeping her eyes on him. "Brooke."

"Your name is Brooke?" Thomas asked.

"Brooke…hun…gry," she said slowly. "Thomees food."

"Yes, I have food." Thomas stood slowly and reached out a hand towards her. "You want some?"

The girl stared at his hand for a minute before flashing her eyes back to his face. Then she stood and pressed her hand into his and started walking down the street where he had pointed.

When they reached the area where everyone had camped out Brooke took her hand from Thomas and started running. She reached the food pile and stared at it. Thomas wondered how much she had eaten recently. Based on the gaunt and thin bodies of the rest of the townspeople he guessed that it hadn't been much.

She reached in and took a small bag of animal crackers. Plopping down on the ground she started to furiously eat them with an appetite Thomas didn't think most three-year-olds had.

"Found a shadow?" Thomas looked up to see Teresa standing to the side. She smiled and looked at the girl.

"Yeah, I think she's Immune because she wasn't asleep when I was walking." Thomas felt strange by simply having a conversation with her, especially because Teresa had taken a step back when the mention of the girl's Immunity came up. Then she stepped forward again.

"She's cute. What's her name?"

"Brooke." Thomas stood. "Do you want to watch her? I think I'm going to walk some more."

"Sure." He didn't miss the hurt in her eyes. He knew she knew that he was going on a walk to get away from her. Thomas didn't want to hurt her, he just needed some time to clear his head and straighten his thoughts.

Thomas walked through the winding streets of the town. He didn't encounter anyone else that was awake and the fresh air felt amazing after being in the Maze, the dusty land of the Scorch and then being shifted from WICKED building to building.

Part of Thomas wondered what his life would have been like if there had been no Flare or sun flares. Would he have still been living with his parents? Would he be in school? What about Newt and Minho? Would he have ever met them?

He had never had the chance for a normal life. Thomas felt robbed. To make matters worse they had taken away his memories. He wanted to know what his parents were like. Did he have any siblings? Grandparents?

Thomas ran a hand threw his hair as he started to walk back to the camp. As he neared he saw Minho and Newt in quiet conversation, Brenda and Jorge laughing over something, and Teresa was playing with the little girl. Harriet and Sonya were in an animated conversation with Annie. Everyone else was in little groups.

Except Thomas. Somehow he always managed to push everyone away. He'd really messed up with Teresa and somewhere along the line he'd lost Brenda. Even Newt and Minho seemed disconnected.

How had this happened? When had Thomas let everyone who meant something to him get away?

He shook his head and walked away from the life he had severely messed up.

* * *

><p>Minho came and found him later in the afternoon sitting against a tree in someone's backyard. "Where've you been, klunk head? People are starting to wake up and they want an explanation."<p>

Thomas followed the boy through a few streets and cut across several backyards until they made it back to the camp. Huddled around in ragged groups were townspeople. Thomas could see the difference immediately; their eyes weren't red with rage and they had an ashamed look on their faces as if they remembered how they had acted when they had the Flare.

Brenda was standing in front of the group, calming telling them that they had been injected with the Cure and that they were safe now. She was also promising them a better future.

"Why has WICKED shown up to help _now_?" a lady asked. "I lost my husband and all of my children."

"They didn't have the Cure," Brenda said. "After years of research they've finally found it and now they're going to help everyone. I'm extremely sorry for your loss."

Thomas stepped forward. "I know you all are going to find this tough. Everyone has lost many friends and loved ones but now we're securing the future for the next generation. That little girl over there—she won't remember most of this. She'll grow up in a world where there is no Flare. There's been a lot of mistakes made in the past but we all need to work together to make things better. It will be worth it."

Everyone was silent for a few minutes. Then, "What do we do with ourselves? If the rest of the world is still Flare ridden then what can we do?" It was a man near the back.

"You can help WICKED Cure the world," Teresa said. Thomas hadn't noticed her at first.

The questions kept on coming and everyone had a chance to step forward and answer. It was hard to stay calm and Thomas was internally frustrated. Why did everyone doubt so much? Couldn't they hold their questions for WICKED?

Finally, near dawn, the leader of the guards stationed around the town came to talk to Thomas and Annie.

"WICKED is sending a Berg to pick your teams up," he said. "I have orders to tell you that your next location is far away and that you'll be spending the night on the plane. They'll have everything you need already loaded."

Thomas thanked the man and spread the information to the two teams. Everyone picked up what little they had and set off for their ride, leaving the curious townspeople for WICKED to deal with.

* * *

><p>The Berg had a bunk room and everyone crashed for the night. They were all extremely tired after managing the former Cranks and sleeping on the ground the night before hadn't been the most comfortable.<p>

Thomas passed out immediately. He woke up in the middle of the night with an unquenchable thirst. Slipping out of bed he softly padded to the bathroom and used the sink to drink.

When he returned he noticed that the bunk across from his was empty. He remembered Newt had been sleeping there. So where had the boy gone?

Thomas searched the Berg. He'd gone through every room and was about to give up when he remembered the cargo hold. Why the shank would be down there was a mystery, but it was a possibility.

The closer he walked to the cargo hold the louder the sound of air became. Thomas wondered what was going on in there. He pressed his palms against the door and opened it quietly before shutting it behind him and turning around.

What he saw left him in shock for a second. His voice was the first to be freed. "NEWT!" he screamed.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: James Dashner created the book and the fictional world. I'm simply expanding on it

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: You're suspense had ended but not your suffering! *evil laugh* Here's the next (and long-awaited) chapter!

Chapter 12

Wind ripped through the cargo hold blowing Thomas' hair all around. It was coming from the open cargo door hatch. Newt was standing near the edge of the ramp, his hair blowing even more wildly than Thomas'. At the sound of the boy's voice he turned. Thomas saw tears on his face.

"Go away, Tommy," he said, his voice cracked and raw. "This doesn't concern you."

Thomas was in shock. His best friend was crying and standing on the edge of a cargo ramp that was thousands of feet above the Earth's surface. He had no doubt in his mind that the boy planned to jump. And he couldn't let him.

"Yes it does," he replied, trying to keep his voice even. "You're my best friend."

"It isn't hurting you so it isn't your buggin' business." Newt had turned away and was staring at the night sky below him. Thomas knew if he jumped then he'd be an instant pancake.

"_Isn't hurting me_? What kind of klunk is that? If you jump I'll always be haunted. I'm never going to forget you, and neither is anyone else. What about Minho? Hasn't he seen enough death in his life?"

"Not as much as I bloody have!" Newt shouted. "Just leave me alone!" He looked up at before shaking his head violently. Thomas tried again.

"If you jump now you will have wasted _everything_ we have worked for. Alby's death would have been in vain. He died for you, Newt, and for all of us. What about everyone else? And after all we've survived through?" Thomas felt despair in his heart. Did his friendship really mean nothing?

"That's the thing, Tommy," Newt said bitterly. "I don't want to survive. I want to _live._ But we're never going to live, never even going to have the chance. Not while WICKED is in control. We're just puppets that they're controlling, manipulating. Pawns on a chest board that's set against our favor."

"What?" Thomas asked in surprise. He'd never thought of things this way.

"Can your klunk-brain not understand? We're never going to be free. They're going to use us and use us and use us until we're all washed up and our corpses are rotting in the ground. They deceive us with their talk of saving the bloody world and being able to get whatever we want. That's not the buggin' case and deep down you know it. That lady even said it herself. Janson will win in the end and we're just collateral damage."

Newt took a step forward, closer to the edge. Thomas yelled, "Don't do that! Newt, remember when I first came to the Glade and Minho and Alby were stuck in the Maze and they weren't going to make it so I ran in? And you yelled, 'Don't do it, Tommy! Don't you bloody do it?'"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Newt snapped. "Besides, you did it anyway. Now it's my turn to ignore your orders." Thomas spoke faster, knowing he was losing him quickly.

"So I did ignore you and ran into the Maze. When I came back Gally and his buddies were persecuting me. They would've had me banished if it was up to them. And there was no way I'd survive a second night. But you stood up for me. You supported me and saved me. Now it's my turn to save you." Thomas felt confident that he could help Newt.

Or maybe not. "The only way you'd save me is by letting me go, Tommy." Newt pointed to his leg. "Did I ever tell you how this happened? I don't think so. I was one of the first Gladers, and one of the first Runners. I hated it there. Every second of the first year and a half I hated it. One day as I was running in my section I had an idea. I climbed as far up the bloody walls as I could. It was only halfway but I thought it was far enough. Then I jumped right off. Landed on my leg and twisted it horrendously. It was so painful, but I wasn't dead. With all my heart I hoped that none of the other bloody Runners would come to my section to find me. If the walls closed before I made it in then the Grievers would have gotten to me. But Alby, stupid shuck-faced Alby, had to be the hero and drag my worthless butt through the doors before they closed." Newt shook his head and furiously wiped at some tears.

"You wanted to die way back then?" Thomas asked, shock an surprise raging inside him once again. In this midnight encounter he'd learned more about Newt than in months of knowing him.

"_No_, I wanted to be a shuckin' unicorn. Of course! It would've worked, too. Jeff and Clint twisted my leg back into position and I laid in the med house for several days. When I finally could walk again I limped. Permanent damage to remind me of what WICKED did to us. What _you_ did to us. 'Course I didn't tell them the real reason why I was messed up so bloody bad. I just told them I had tried to climb to the walls. Chewed me out for being such a slinthead but them they appointed me as Second in Command. That's what a person gets for trying to kill themselves."

He laughed bitterly. Thomas was stunned. Newt had been so kind and warm all this time. He couldn't believe he had been hiding all these feelings inside.

"Why were you so nice then?" he wondered.

"Didn't want anyone to suffer like I had. That first year in the Glade was hard, and that's an understatement. You probably won't believe it but Gally didn't use to be such a buggin' shuck. We were all changed after that, most of us for the worse." Newt shook his head. "Now I'm just finishing up the job I started a year ago. You know, I kinda hoped that WICKED wouldn't have the bloody Cure because then I would have had a reason to shoot myself."

Thomas knew he was losing him. He had to grasp at straws. "You can't be serious. Not after all we've been through. We can work through this, Newt. We'll free ourselves from WICKED. You just can't give up now!"

"We'll never be free, Tommy. I'm too messed up." Newt tapped his temple, right where his brain would be. "I've been through too much. My mind is too messed up to be saved, anyway." Newt stepped forward again, and his toes were touching the end of the ramp. "Just let me go." He'd barely gotten the words out past the sob in throat. Thomas felt horrible.

"SERIOUSLY?!"

Thomas and Newt both jumped at the voice. They turned to see Teresa striding through the door, a look of pure rage and pure sorrow on her face. She narrowed her eyes at the two boys.

"'I'm too messed up, Tommy'. 'We can still make it through this together, Newt'. Where do you get this kind of crap?" Teresa was literally fuming. She stood in the doorway, her hand right by the lever to close the cargo hold doors.

"If anyone has the right to jump out of this Berg it's me. That's right, slintheads, _me_. My life is one huge crapfest. First I'm abandoned by my parents at a young age and then forced to work for WICKED. I'm forced to put a bunch of kids my age into a Maze. Later I get put in there. Then I have to watch as a little, sweet, innocent boy is brutally murdered in front of me. After that I'm taken away from my best friend. We're put in the worst and most dangerous place in the world and I'm forced to betray my best friend or he'll die. Of course he doesn't understand that and when I save his shucking life he turns his back on me! We grew up together and when I _save his life_ he immediately doesn't trust me. Then he goes and starts something with another girl who has just as many reasons to not be trusted as I do." Teresa shook her head angrily. "Then I'm forced to work for WICKED again and I have to risk my life in a Crank infested world. I have no friends because no one trusts me and no one likes me. So don't tell me you're messed up enough to want to commit suicide. I'm just as messed up, but at least you have friends who care enough to try and stop you. If I had left no one would have noticed."

She slammed her palm against the lever that closed the cargo hold doors and it flipped and started flashing red. The doors jerked upwards and began to close. Newt scrambled backward, not anxious to get crushed between the metal.

Thomas turned his attention to Teresa. She turned around sharply and opened the door. Thomas grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Wait, Teresa," he said. "I—"

"Get away from me, Thomas," she snapped. Thomas felt part of him crush under her words.

"You used to call me Tom," he said softly.

"You're not Tom anymore." She strode away and Thomas let his hand drop dejectedly. Inside his chest his heart took a fall, too.

Newt was sitting forlornly at the base of the ramp, his back against a cardboard box. His eyes were still puffy and bloodshot but he just looked exhausted now. He had his head in his hands.

"You sure bloody messed up with her," Newt muttered. His voice sounded raw. Thomas felt sick to his stomach and he walked out of the hold, slamming the door shut behind him. Who cares what his 'friends' did? He'd already messed up everything horribly. Why not just let them go like he'd let Teresa walk away?

* * *

><p>Taylormh98 you weren't wrong, I just didn't want to spoil anything for you<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own this

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Please accept my sincerest appologies for not updating yesterday. Here's the next chapter today instead.

Chapter 13

The next day the two groups were fed a hasty breakfast before being dropped at their new location. It started out very similar to the first one, though Thomas saw much more unity in the groups.

Thomas himself let Annie take the lead, and he hung out at the back of the pack, not wanting to talk to anyone. He felt horrible and he just wanted some space. Actually he wanted _lots_ of space.

More than ever he missed the days of running through the Maze, eating Frypan's packed lunches, and feeling like he belonged somewhere. Ever since they had escaped he'd been thrown through all sorts of situations and everyone he knew seemed to get farther and farther away. Everyone had also lied to him; Teresa had been an emotional rollercoaster during the Scorch Trials and even now; Brenda had been working with WICKED all along; Newt had been suffering from depression all alone. And even those who hadn't been lying to him seemed like they were at a distance; Minho didn't talk to him so much; Frypan had chosen a different path; Aris hadn't even talked to Thomas _once. _

Thomas thought he had lost everything when he had been put in the Maze. If only he knew how wrong he had been. In the Glade he had gained so many new friends, and also in the Scorch Trials. Then, in several cruel twists of fate, he had lost all of them. He had nothing now, nothing but himself.

Thomas was so deep in thought that he almost didn't hear the screams. He snapped his head up and saw that they were emerging into the main town square and the job had begun. Thomas held up his tranq gun and let the business of the job wash all other thoughts from his head.

There were Cranks scattered all over, many of them already slumped due to the darts, but Thomas also saw a few that were past Gone. Those ones were running at the teams, screaming like feral animals.

"We're going to have to shoot them!" someone yelled. Thomas saw a few of the boys and girls reach into their pockets for their pistols. He flinched as the first gunshot went off; then he steadied his tranquilizer gun and kept moving forward. He himself was not going to shoot anyone with real bullets.

WICKED must have been satisfied with the job in the previous town for they now presented the Gladers with a harder challenge. Thomas saw many Cranks shot with the darts but he also saw too many Gone go down in a hail of bullets. Death seemed to surround him all over.

As they continued to move forward weariness tugged on Thomas from everywhere. His eyelids drooped and it took every once of his being to not let them close. He felt the light sensation of falling that you get right before you sleep and he had to forcefully keep himself grounded.

Then the boy next to him fell, yelping as a Crank past Gone jumped on him. Thomas' eyes snapped open and adrenaline rushed through him. His heart pounded in his chest twice as fast. He shot the Crank in the neck with a dart before wilding looking around. They were being attacked from all sides. Thomas cursed as he pulled out his pistol. He would have to save the darts for the more sane.

The boy next to him shakily stood up and drew his own weapon. They exchanged a glance before Thomas aimed the sight of his gun and shot. There was little kickback but he held it steady as he shot down the line of charging insanes. There was no mercy in his heart, only a desire to survive.

Thomas had a sudden flashback to the night before when he and Newt had been arguing. Newt had said that he didn't want to survive, he wanted to live. How did Thomas feel about that? He had never given it any thought, but if surviving meant doing this for the rest of his life than he had to agree with Newt. Surviving wasn't worth it.

If Thomas lost the rest of his humanity by surviving than dying would surely be better.

His thoughts were taken away as he was shaken back into reality. The boy next to him touched his shoulder. "We're moving on."

Thomas nodded and loped after the boy as they continued to do what they had been assigned. He could only hope that saving the world was worth whatever damage was happening to himself.

The rest of the town was easily taken. Most of the Gone had been shot and the others had left. Annie instructed everyone to help spread the Cure so Thomas was stuck poking needles in people for another hour.

Around dawn a different group of security guards dropped down with supplies and retained their protective stance around the town. Thomas dug through for a sleeping bag and laid it out on the ground. He wasn't hungry, and the bodies that were caught in a fierce spasm around the town sickened him.

As he settled down he contemplated that he hadn't seen Newt nor Teresa that day. They must've been around somewhere, unless they had ended up jumping out of the Berg. Thomas felt a pain of guilt. If it wasn't for his pressing tiredness he would've searched for them, but as it was he could barely keep his eyes open. He surrendered to sleep, promising himself he would make things right with his two friends in the morning.

* * *

><p>Minho shook Thomas awake. Thomas was surprised by the worried look in his friend's eyes.<p>

"What happened?" he asked. He was wide awake now. Minho just shook his head and lead Thomas towards the sleeping townspeople.

Some of them were resting like normal, but others were twitching horrificably. Their eyes were open, though rolled back. Veins bulged in their necks and wrists.

"What in the shuck is that?" Thomas muttered. Minho glanced over at him.

"No idea. We need to get in contact with WICKED right away. I don't like the look of this." The two of them set off towards the town limits where the black-clad guards were standing guard.

Thomas sidled up next to one. "Where's your leader?" he asked. The guard turned his head and flipped the visor of his helmet up.

"I'm in charge. What do you need?"

"There's something wrong with some of people. The Cure is doing something weird to them and they're still twitching." Minho shook his head. "It's kinda scary."

The guard looked between them. "What, do you want me to contact WICKED or something?" He didn't seem harsh, just at a loss for what to do.

"Yeah. Some of the scientists might want to take a look at them." Thomas couldn't shake the horrible feeling that plagued him. Something was seriously wrong here.

The leader of the guards pulled out a small headset from his pocket. He put it over his head and murmured something inside the mic. Then, speaking louder, he repeated what the two boys had said. He listened for a minute and turned to them.

"WICKED is sending some scientists immediately. They're also sending a Berg to pick you up. You are to leave everything except your clothes behind."

"What is it?" Thomas pressed. The guard betrayed a fleeting expression of fear.

"They're not sure, but they have suspicions. Maybe if you ask them they'll tell you more. I'm just a soldier, son, not a lab rat or doctor." He flipped his visor down and turned back to the line. Thomas and Minho walked back to the town to relay the instructions.

Minho pulled Thomas to the side and grasped his shoulders. "I have no idea what we're dealing with, shank, but you have to promise to stay with me. You can't let anything get to you."

"Hey, man, it's cool. I'm not going anywhere," Thomas assured him.

"That's not what I meant. I know you won't go anywhere physically. I mean in here." Minho tapped his temple. "Something's up with Newt, he's been hiding in the shadows lately and he won't talk to me. He's lost in his mind. We'll help him, but I need you to stay or there'll be no hope."

Thomas felt guilt boil up in him. He decided to not mention to Minho what Newt had said the night before. "Yeah, I've seen it too. I promise."

Minho let go of him. "Thanks."

So maybe Thomas hadn't lost as many friends as he thought he had. He did agree with Minho one hundred percent, though; they needed to bring Newt back. And they needed to bring him back before klunk hit the fan.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and I don't mean to infringe on any copyright laws

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Hey! Here's where we get some answers. Don't trust any of my medical information, I'm not sure if anything I wrote is even possible, and you'll have to use your imagination for the accent. When you're done reading this you may want to check out my (canon) TMR one-shot called "Dreaming of Paradise". I just published it recently.

Also, anyone a fan of American football? The Superbowl is tonight :)

Chapter 14

The Berg came about fifteen minutes later. It unloaded a team of scientists and more guards before allowing the Gladers on. Once on, Thomas marched immediately to the cockpit, Minho and Brenda at his tail.

Before they could even knock a man in a lab coat came out. He held up his hand at the flurry of questions.

"We are going to go back to da facility," he said, his Italian accent thick. "Den when dee information about dee people comes in, we talk. For now, sit tight and relax."

Thomas and Minho exchanged glances before reluctantly turning back and crashing on the sofas with everyone else. Thomas looked around for Newt and Teresa but he couldn't find either of them.

"Have you seen them lately?" he asked quietly so that only Minho could hear.

"I saw Newt out of the corner of my eye when we loaded," Minho replied. "Don't worry about them, ya shank. When they're ready to talk you'll know. For now just give them space."

Thomas sighed and put his head back. He didn't want to wait but he knew the older boy was right. He closed his eyes as thoughts scrolled across the darkness. When he had signed up for this job he had assumed they would be so busy that he wouldn't have much time to think. Unfortunately it was the opposite; he had way too much extra time.

There was a small jolt as the Berg's thrusters turned on and the aircraft rose. Then it shot off to wherever the facility was. Thomas could do nothing but sit and wait.

* * *

><p>When they arrived at the facility they were all quickly unloaded and hustled into the building. It was similar to that of Dr. West's, and Thomas had a good sense of direction. The Italian man was leading them to the cafeteria, he guessed, and that turned out to be correct.<p>

Everyone stood in line for food, as it was close to midday, and even though it had only been a few days since the goodbye feast he had missed real food, not just the dehydrated klunk that was sent with the guards. Thomas feasted on the simple sandwiches and the clean, fresh water.

Everyone was gorging down the food. Thomas made sure not to eat so much that his stomach upset, but not everyone was so careful. Several made a mad dash to the bathrooms around the corner, hands held to their mouths.

When they were finished the man escorted them to a large conference room. He had them all sit down as he read something off a holographic image that he controlled by a tablet in his palm.

"My scientists have made a shocking discovery," the man said. His accent had thinned considerably, as if he was making a bigger effort to speak better English. "The Cure that we have worked so long and hard to create—it works for those with the Flare. However, a new strain we call Flare Two-Point-Oh has occurred. The Cure won't work on it—instead, it will only speed up the virus considerably. So far that town was the only one to show victims with that virus in their body. WICKED had voted for actions to hasten the spreading of the Cure. We need to eliminate the original Flare before we seriously study this new development."

"So none of us are safe anymore?" someone asked. The man shook his head.

"In the brief time we've had scientists have tested the samples and it is shown that those who are Immune to the Flare will not catch nor carry this virus. It is the same in those who are Cured; that is why we must spread the Cure even faster than before."

"What's different about this 'Flare Two-Point-Oh' that makes it so dangerous?" Harriet inquired.

"The victims will start having violent seizures when the virus reacts to other chemicals. _Other chemicals_ being ones that we encounter on a daily basis and ones that are in the Cure. If the Cure has already been introduced to your system then your immune system can fight the virus, but if you attract the virus before being introduced to the Cure then it will react badly. All the people in the town that you saw were having seizers—most of them are dead now. The Flare Two-Point-Oh works extremely fast."

The man projected the holograph onto the wall and enlarged it. He showed them how the virus was spreading based upon the blood samples that the scientists had collected. The cells of the virus were a purple color and they were eating straight through the person's blood cells as if they were paper. It sickened Thomas.

Halfway through his presentation the holograph flickered and a computer voice said, "Incoming call from Chancellor Ava Paige."

The man replied, "Answer" and the image flickered and a live stream of the Chancellor appeared.

"Mr. Crespo, there is a certain situation we need to address. My secretary was going through some old UN files from the Scorch catastrophe and we discovered something of the utmost importance, something that was missed years ago." Her lips pursed and she brushed a stray strand of her blonde hair back.

"What would that be, Chancellor?" Mr. Crespo said.

"When the Flare was created the creators wanted to be certain that future scientists would not be able to find a Cure quickly so that it would do its work and deplete the population massively. As you know, the original Flare was supposed to be highly contagious and kill its victims immediately. But they knew that it might mutate so they had other precautions."

"And how deed they do dat?" the man asked, his Italian accent returning.

"They created the virus so that it would evolve in a set period of years. I have no idea how they the technology to achieve that, but there's pages and pages of evidence that the scientists of old had actually designed it." She paused and then forged on quickly. "The very man in charge of this was Andrew Janson."

"No! Dat could not mean…"

"Yes. He's a direct ancestor of Assistant Director Janson. It's all the evidence we need to evict him. However, he has too many followers to kick him out. Even if we managed to do that we would end up having our hands full of sabotage and his eventual return. The only way to get him out is to arrange an accident."

Thomas shared a glance with Minho. Were they really going to kill a man in cold blood?

"You do understand that we have to do this," Ava was saying. "I hate it, the mere notion sickens me, but we have no choice. The only way to save the human race is to get rid of Janson."

"Yes, I do understand." Mr. Crespo had thinned his accent again, and he straightened his lab jacket. "I have the subjects here at my lab. The town they were in was the one where we encountered the new strain."

"Good. Keep them safe against Janson. He knows they will be his downfall, and we can't let him get to them. And also, as you may have realized…since the new strain was programmed into the virus it means that even now we are losing millions more."

"How many people do you think we can save before the new virus completely takes hold?" Mr. Crespo asked, a crease between his eyes.

"Under a billion," Ava said. Sadness tinged her voice, and Thomas realized that she hated these deaths as much as everyone else. "There is nothing we can do except send more teams out. Keep the Gladers inside and set quarantine on your facility. We need to keep as much knowledge out of Janson's hands as possible. If he finds that they're hiding there then all our efforts might be in vain. I need to go now; you have your instructions."

The image turned black and Mr. Crespo shut off the holograph and stuck the tablet in his pocket.

The man turned to them, a graveness in his eyes.

"I let you see that so you would know more. Some of what you learned is confidential, so don't tell anyone else, not even those working here. They will be told what they need to know. For now you will stay with us; maybe you can put your minds to work and help us in the labs."

Mr. Crespo led them out of the room and Thomas couldn't help but feel that maybe the human race was _meant _to be obliterated.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: James Dashner has all rights. No infringments are, or were, intended

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: This chapter doesn't have a ton of action but I hope you'll stay with me through it!

Chapter 15

The next day the Gladers were issued lab coats and sent to the labs. They all huddled in small groups while several scientists showed them what they were working on and how they could help.

Thomas and Minho ended up carrying boxes full of scientific equipment from a shipment that had been delivered the day before. Brenda was helping in a different area, as she had been working in WICKED labs already.

By the time lunch time came, Thomas' arms ached. They had carried close to forty boxes and each was considerable heavy. He could only wonder what was in them.

After lunch he was able to find out; a small group of them were tasked to sort through the boxes and place it in its correct spot. The storage closet was huge, and it took the rest of the afternoon to find where everything went. Most of the supplies were just vials of different chemicals, latex gloves, masks, goggles, and other sorts of lab equipment.

Dinner came and Thomas had never tasted better steak and mashed potatoes. As good as Frypan had been in the Glade, this food was amazing.

After dinner Thomas wandered around the facility. He peeked into the windows on the doors of conference rooms, scouted the many dorms of the residents, and even found a locked hallway of the lab. Though he was curious as to what was in there he didn't push it; after all he'd learned about WICKED so far he wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore of their dark secrets.

The best discover of the evening was a small courtyard in the middle of the tangle of connecting buildings. It wasn't large at all, just a dozen flowering trees, some bushes and a gravel pathway that led to a small bench in the middle. The temperature was mild, and warm, though a slight breeze brushed goose bumps across his arms. The flowers gave off a pleasant aroma that didn't stuff up his sinuses like the sterile clean lab smell in the facility. Air sweeping in was the only sound, as it oddly relaxed Thomas. The density of the trees almost hid the ugly off-white cement walls of the facility and the sunset above him looked like a Picasso painting.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" a voice said. Thomas jumped in surprise and looked to see Brenda quietly closing the door behind her. She walked up next to him.

"Yeah, it's better than the bland walls of labs," Thomas agreed, slightly on edge. He was beginning to trust her though he still wasn't sure.

"It's times like these that makes me believe there is hope for humanity, and hope for this planet," Brenda continued. Her voice had a dreamy quality about it. "There was a time before human technology prevailed that our entire planet was a living paradise. Everywhere you went would be beautiful beyond imagination. Everyone and everything had its place, and the balance was perfect. Then humans evolved mentally and now our world is reduced to deserts and ugly buildings and death."

She turned to him. Thomas noticed she was very close, and he felt a little nervous. Was it because he didn't trust her or because he had feelings for her? It felt the same way.

"Thomas, what are you thinking about?" Brenda asked. "Please. Tell me."

Thomas shook his head. He didn't want to tell her anything. He didn't want to hurt her like he'd hurt her the last time he'd spit out what was on his mind way back in the Scorch Trials. They had been dancing and when she tried to kiss him he told her that she could never be _her._

"I won't be offended by the truth," Brenda pressed. "Your words can't hurt me more than your silence."

"My silence _is_ the truth," Thomas said, trying to avoid her. He really didn't want to have this conversation now, or here. He wanted to think and clear out his head. His whole life he'd been living in a cloudy state of confusion and he hated it.

"Now your words are lies," she replied. "I know how you're feeling. It's written all over your face. You don't want to admit that you feel the same way about me that you feel about Teresa. You feel betrayed and alone. It's okay; you can talk to me."

Thomas was stunned by the fact that she could read him so clearly. He didn't want her be able to read him. All this was too much for him.

"I—I have to go," he stuttered, and he bolted. There was no other way around it; he just couldn't take another minute. Whenever he felt alone there was no one who wanted to talk to him and when he wanted to be alone everyone wanted to talk to him.

No matter what he did he hurt his friends, and he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

* * *

><p>That night he lay in bed and stared up at the top bunk. Minho was sleeping there, though he wasn't snoring so Thomas knew he wasn't asleep. Why his friend couldn't sleep was a mystery to Thomas but he knew why he himself wasn't sleeping. Or why he might never sleep right again.<p>

Every time he closed his eyes he saw Newt, his eyes red and puffy from crying. He saw him trying to step closer to the edge, his fear of failing again keeping him from jumping. Then, when he finally had courage, turning to Thomas. "_We'll never be free, Tommy….Just let me go_."

He faded away to be replaced by Teresa. "_Go away, Thomas_!" She had her hands bunched up in fists, her eyes filled with sorrow and rage. Her hair was wildly blowing around her face from the wind but it did nothing except make her look more like a storm. A storm that was blowing Thomas away.

Then there was Brenda, her eyes filled with nothing but compassion and a wanting to help Thomas. He had left her all alone. "_It's okay; you can talk to me_." He'd run away and left her alone, even though all she wanted was to help him.

And Minho, who had kept him around. "_You have to promise to stay with me_," he'd said, his eyes filled with concern and a need for Thomas to stay with him. Minho had lost everything and Thomas had been all there was to ground him. If he left Minho might not be able to keep the strong attitude. Life would end the day Minho stopped being sassy.

Newt appeared again, his head in his hands until he looked up straight at Thomas. In his life Thomas had never seen so much sadness in anyone's eyes, and he'd never seen such pain. _"Not everyone is going to make it out, Tommy. You're going to lose someone, and it's up to you who it's going to be."_

Then Thomas fell into a restless sleep and he dreamed about storms that were Teresa and tropical breezes that were Brenda.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: James Dashner has all the rights to TMR. I'm just making total fiction.

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery.

Author's Note: You guys might not like the very end of this chapter, but please stay. You'll see that things work out eventually, I promise.

Chapter 16

In the morning Thomas had woken before anyone else, though he didn't feel refreshed at all; instead he felt even more tired than the previous day. Newt's words kept haunting him as he stared up at the top bunk.

_"__You're going to lose someone, and it's up to you who it's going to be."_

Newt hadn't really said that in real life, but the dream had been so realistic. And Thomas didn't think that his mind had created that; he was sure it was a real warning. He was scared, truly scared, like the first time he'd seen those walls surrounding him in the Glade, and scared like the first time he saw a Griever or a Crank. He was also curious- when would this happen? Who would it happen to?

Worst of all was what he knew deep down. Thomas knew he wasn't sure who he would sacrifice, and that scared him. Would he let Newt or Minho go? What about Teresa or Brenda?

He remembered there once was a game (though he couldn't remember who he'd played it with, where, or when) where you would be asked an 'or' question. _Coke or Pepsi? Blue or Red? Books or Movies?_ That's how he felt about this. He loved all of his friends and he genuinely wanted them all to make it out alive. Except now he knew he had to make a choice—given the different paths, who could he live without?

Could he live without Newt, the boy who'd befriended him in the Glade and taken him under his wing? Newt had supported him and encouraged him through everything, and always followed Thomas without a doubt. If it wasn't for Newt Thomas was sure he would've never made it out of the Glade. Newt had always stepped up and acted bravely even in the face of danger and Thomas had never worried if the boy had his back. Newt was loyal to the core and persevered through the darkness. Even now, though he was lost in his mind Thomas knew he would step up if the occasion called for it. Surely Thomas couldn't live without him in his life.

What about Minho? Minho had always been both sides of the coin, sassy and sarcastic while serious and grim at the same time. He stepped up when Thomas couldn't, and led him through the Maze. When the boys had been trapped in the Maze at night and the Grievers were coming after him Minho had helped concoct a way to get rid of them, and by doing so helped save Thomas' life. Sure he'd been a pain in the butt sometimes but when it came down to it Minho was loyal and would always have Thomas' back. There was no way Thomas could let go of that.

And Teresa? In the Glade she had always been by his side, helping fight courageously even though she was physically weaker than everyone else. During the Scorch Trials she had betrayed him, but was she really to blame? Teresa had told him WICKED made her, and maybe Thomas was just being a jerk about it. And in the few flashes of memory he had they were always together, best friends to the end. They'd both been forced to put the Gladers through the Maze, and they once had a mysterious bond. Thomas remembered the loneliness when she had been gone, and the furious determination to find her when she had disappeared before the Scorch Trials. What about the stirring inside him that he had felt when she first kissed him? Maybe it was all gone now, but he still didn't think he could keep going without her steadfast trust in him, even though he totally wrote her off.

Then there was Brenda. She'd helped him through the Scorch Trials, and when the crazy Crank caught them beneath the tunnels he would have died without her. She'd guided him through the Crank town and helped him to his friends. He'd totally blown her off when she'd expressed interest in him, but she'd stayed, even though she had nothing to gain. Later he found out she had been with WICKED the whole time, but there was something about her that made him continue to trust her. She always remained calm even in the worst situations, and he knew she had his back. Even when he'd expressed mixed feelings for her she continued to have hope, and that inspired him. Could he keep going if she left?

The answer to all of them was no. He couldn't bear to lose any of them. He'd come so close to losing Newt and he remembered the despair it had caused. Newt was like a light in the darkness, a good, genuinely kind and loyal soul in a world of blackness. Minho was light and humorous, helping lift the load off of Thomas or making him forget he had to carry that. Teresa was like an unknown element, useful and eager to help though no one could quite define or figure her out. Brenda was like the warm sun in a cold world, adding color and warmth wherever she went.

Thomas needed them all. Without Newt his world would be dark and scary. Without Minho his world would be one unbearable burden after another. Without Teresa his world would be crashing down upon him, for she was a strong pillar that lifted everything up. Without Brenda his world would be cold and colorless.

Which could he afford to live in? Who could he give up?

Thomas didn't think he could ever know.

* * *

><p>After everyone woke up Thomas slid out of bed and took a cold shower to try and wake himself up. Then he followed everyone to the cafeteria and nibbled at a piece of toast, his appetite consumed by his thoughts. Every time he looked at Newt, Minho, Brenda or Teresa he could only think about the effect of them being gone. Every word he spoke to them was as if it were his last words to them; he couldn't shake off the paranoia that had grown in him.<p>

Work helped him distract himself, though. His task that day was to clean up a lab. He thought it would be pretty easy until he stepped through the door and flicked the light on; then he wished he was doing anything but.

"What in the shuck happened here?" Minho wondered from beside him.

The scientist that had escorted them said, "An experiment went wrong. It exploded over there and the shock waves threw the scientists everywhere."

The floor was covered in metal tools and glass shards; a few drops of smeared blood dotted the metal, and in the far corner burn marks were scarred into the walls. The entire room smelled like burned flesh and singed hair with a tang of chemicals mixed in.

"What were you even using?" Thomas asked. The scientist shifted.

"Just some new things that we were trying out. As you can see it didn't work. This happened just before you came, so the mess is a little old. We need the lab, though, so the faster you can clean it out the better." The man left Thomas, Minho, and two girls from Group B to deal with the mess.

One of the girls wheeled the cart with the trash can, brooms, and cleaning chemicals on it into the room and placed it in the center. She handed Thomas a broom, Minho a rag, and the other girl a bottle of cleaner. She herself started cleaning the windows.

"My name is Jane, and this is Elizabeth," she introduced herself and her friend. Thomas and Minho returned the favor and they went to work quietly. After sweeping the floor and throwing his pile away Thomas started scrubbing. Minho wiped the walls where Elizabeth sprayed and when Jane finished the windows she set off to clean the lab tables off.

They finished a little before lunch and decided to take a break. Minho and Thomas sat against the wall.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Minho asked. "You look at me like I'm going to shuckin' explode any minute."

"Sorry," Thomas muttered. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"'Sorry'? I want an explanation, Thomas. You said you weren't going to leave me but every day you're slipping farther and farther away." Minho let out a breath in frustration.

Thomas ran his hand through his hair. "I've been dealing with a lot lately."

"Talk to me about it," Minho suggested.

"I can't! Don't you see?" Thomas punched the floor in frustration. "Talking won't help me. This is something only I can resolve."

To his surprise, Minho replied calmly. "You're the smartest one around here. If anyone can resolve something it's you. Can you at least tell me what it's about?"

"No," Thomas said dejectedly. "Well, I guess. If you had a problem where there was no right answer and all the paths led to people getting hurt then what would you do?"

"I would choose the path where the least amount of people gets hurt," Minho replied. "It's easy. Priorities."

Thomas felt his shoulders droop. "It's not like that. A lot of people, including myself, will get hurt either way."

"Then stop thinking about yourself so much. I think the real problem here is that you're being selfish. Pick the option where less people other than yourself get hurt." Minho looked down. "When we were in the Glade and I had to banish Ben—that really hurt me. But it was for the good of everyone, so I put myself aside. You have to do the same, Thomas."

Jane and Elizabeth passed by and motioned to the boys that it was time for lunch. Thomas reluctantly stood, though he couldn't get Minho's words out of his mind. Lately it seemed as though everyone's thoughts but his swirled in his head—maybe that was a good thing, since everyone else seemed wiser than he.

Thomas was almost sure he knew who to let go. The person was liked the least among everyone and who was always the outcast. Someone who might even thank Thomas for his decision.

He would have to live in a world where the pillars crumbled and his world crashed down around him.

Thomas would have to sacrifice Teresa when the time came.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: If I owned this I would be rich but I'm not so I don't own this

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! I had a theatre performance last night and I didn't get home until very late! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 17

The dinners at the facilities would never cease to amaze Thomas with their wonderful aromas and delicious tastes. He eagerly ate, even though his decision weighed heavily at his heart. He wondered if he could eat sadness and dread away.

Later he resumed his habit of exploring the facility. He passed the lab that he had cleaned and he saw a few scientists milling around it. One asked him if he was willing to help load supplies into the empty room and he complied, nothing else demanding his attention. When he was done he kept his exploring.

He checked out the aircraft hanger, and saw that the doors to the outside were heavily padlocked. There was a sign that reminded him of the fake quarantine, and he felt bad that he was the cause. He wondered why Janson thought he was such a threat; he was just a teenage boy who wanted to make it out alive. Somehow along the way he'd helped encourage people to defy the authorities. Was it too much to want to live? Apparently.

He snooped through the boxes that were strewn around the empty hanger and he saw a few launchers, guns, and some vials of something that he assumed was the Cure. There was nothing exciting so he wandered out and walked down the hall.

He passed a room that he hadn't seen before, which was surprising considering the hubbub of activity inside. Gladers and the boys and girls from Annie's group were all mingling inside. There were a few game tables, ping pong tables, and a TV. Couches and a mini fridge completed the hang out room.

Thomas felt like an outcast as he stood in the doorway. Everyone was so relaxed and without worries that he knew he would never fit in. Being a leader meant he had a lot of responsibilities, and he had to know things that he would rather not know. Like the fact that he might have to lose one of his friends.

He slipped away, a little disappointed that no one had noticed, and also a little thankful.

The next place his wandering feet took him was back to the little courtyard in the center. He slipped quietly into the clearing but stopped short when he heard voices. He hid behind a large tree trunk and peered in at the two people in the garden.

He was very taken aback; Newt and Teresa sat on the bench. They weren't sitting close, and they weren't even looking at each other, but they were talking. And Thomas realized with a jolt of surprise that they were talking about him.

"…won't even look me in the eyes anymore," Teresa was saying. "Tom hasn't spoken to me in days."

Thomas felt sad that she was calling him 'Tom' again. He didn't think he deserved it. Obviously some part of her still longed for what they once had, and still held feelings of some sort.

"He won't talk to anyone 'cept Minho," Newt agreed. "I know I frightened him, but that doesn't mean he should ignore my buggin' existence, especially after he begged me not to jump. I feel like I don't even bloody know him anymore. He's lost to me, Teresa. Tommy's lost to me." The boy's voice broke, and Thomas' heart with it. Thomas blinked past tears before watching his old friends again. Teresa had laid a hand on Newt's arm, and Thomas saw that he was crying.

"He's lost himself trying to save us all," Teresa said. Thomas wondered if that was true, and guilt ate him up inside; she still thought he was trying to save them. It was true to some degree, as he was saving most of his friends, but she was the one he was willing to give up. Yet she trusted him still.

Thomas couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat. He felt so guilty and evil. Why were the dice always stacked up against him? Why did every choice he made have unknown consequences?

Minho had been trying to ground Thomas, trying to keep him from becoming lost but it was too late. Teresa was right; Thomas had lost himself. He'd lost himself during the Scorch Trials when he began to doubt Teresa. He lost himself when he had turned his back on her.

"We've all lost ourselves," Newt said. "If life was an ocean we're all just drifting. We lose ourselves the day we have no purpose, and none of us has had any bloody purpose since the Scorch Trials were completed. We just follow whatever buggin' thing WICKED tells us, and we don't even care anymore."

"I don't even know who I am. All my memories were stolen. All I remember is that I helped WICKED with the Maze Trials and I regret every minute of it. Tom and I were best friends, and…and WICKED knew that we would be broken up when I had to betray him. They also knew the only reason I would betray him was if his life was threatened. I had to do it, Newt. I had to. Why couldn't Tom see that? Did he really believe I would do something like that? I loved him and he…he didn't return the feeling."

As each tear fell from Teresa's eyes Thomas felt more and more worthless and cruel. Was he any better than WICKED? He'd fallen for all of their lies, all of their deceptions. He'd treated his friends like they were nothing. He'd been blind to their feelings. If he had only paid more attention he would have known that Newt was depressed. He would have noticed that Teresa had feelings for him.

If only he had listened more when it mattered before he hurt them all. Thomas had been too absorbed with his own problems to care about his friends. He'd listened to them but he hadn't let their words reach him, their voices touch him. He'd seen them but had been too blind to see what their actions really meant.

Minho was right when he reprimanded Thomas for being too selfish. Thomas had turned into something that was not good, and someone he would be ashamed to know. Why didn't he see it earlier? He could have done so much good.

"WICKED has taken as much from us as they could," Newt said. "They even took away our identities. But they haven't taken away the free will that enables us to change. We can take control of our bloody lives and make something good come of it. I've been thinking a lot lately and I realize that maybe what Tommy needs—maybe what we all need—is to have a purpose. If we're going to survive this and have hope for a better life we need to believe it. We're hiding in the shadows and we need to come out into the light."

Teresa smiled a little, and Thomas felt himself being inspired by Newt's words. That was another aspect of Newt that he had forgotten; his ability to make everyone else feel better. And now that Thomas knew he had been depressed, he had wanted nothing but to end his life, he respected him even more for his words.

"Tomorrow we should talk to Tom," Teresa announced. "We should help him find himself so he can guide us again."

She slid over and gave Newt a hug, which the boy returned after a moment of hesitation. Thomas slipped away, his heart light at the prospect of having his friends back but also heavy because he know knew that he couldn't let Teresa be the one to die. She may have once been an outcast but the pillar she built for Thomas was also built for Newt and if she died then both Newt and Thomas' worlds would collapse. That was something Thomas could not—and wound not—allow. Newt had lost so much already and another friend biting the dust might drive him over the edge—literally.

Newt was obviously out of the question, and that left Thomas with only two options; Minho or Brenda.

Thomas decided that a decent sleep was needed before making such a dramatic decision.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: James Dashner wrote the original story, but due to the horribleness of The Death Cure I'm writing this in replacement

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: I know I don't say this enough, but your reviews are really kind! The words are encouraging and very generous, especially as I don't even ask for them, and it always makes my day knowing that I am good at the one thing in life I truly enjoy doing. Thank you all so much!

Chapter 18

Waking up, Thomas felt refreshed for once. His heart had been lightened by the conversation he'd heard last night, and he was ready to face the day. He was inspired and Newt hadn't even talked to him in person yet. This day was really going to be a good one.

At breakfast his excitement must have been evident because Minho kept giving him weird looks and when Thomas finally was like, "What?" Minho shook his head and replied, "Glad you had good dreams about riding unicorns and getting ponies for Christmas."

Thomas shot back, "I would be a unicorn if I could." Minho rolled his eyes, but when he turned away Thomas could see a small smile growing on his face.

When the group of Gladers and the others arrived back at the dorm room Newt stood up and addressed everyone. "Hey, shanks, we need to talk."

Everyone was shocked since Newt had basically been hiding in the corner for the last few weeks and they hurriedly finished up their business before sitting in rows in front of him. Teresa stood by him as he began to talk.

"For too long we've been complacently doing whatever WICKED tells us to do. I don't know about you, but it had really messed me up. Part of me had fallen dormant, and that was the part of me that wanted to keep on bloody living. We've just been surviving and that's not right. We deserve to have a good life."

A smattering of applause went through the group before Teresa picked up the speech.

"I know many of you don't trust me for what WICKED made me do, and I don't blame you. However, I think we need to put the past behind us and claim our future. We all need to evaluate our life and find something to hold on to, something or someone worth living for. We've lost the courage we once possessed, and with it we lost purpose. We need to all step up and help build one another up. The only way we're getting through this is to work together. All of us are from different places and we all have our own demons but we need to all contribute to the general attitude and moral." She looked around and smiled, and Thomas could feel the group's mood rising considerably.

"One day all of us will be free from this bloody facility, and free from WICKED," Newt promised. "It will take the efforts on everyone's part, but we will achieve the future we all want and deserve."

Everyone stood and applauded. Newt and Teresa exchanged a smile before turning back to the group.

"For now we stay here and help. When the opportunity arises we will throw out Janson and we will establish a better authority in his place. Then we will demand a secure future and they will give it to us!" Teresa's eyes were glowing.

Thomas had to agree with them. In the moment he was transported back to the Glade where Newt was in charge and where he had the respect of everyone. His voice had been very influential there and here it was again. Teresa showed a side of herself that Thomas had never encountered, and that was of a great leader. He would not be surprised if she joined him, Minho, and Newt in the front lines when they stood up against WICKED yet again.

The group broke up and left to go do their respective tasks. Thomas found himself enjoying his daily activities more than ever. His thing to hold on to was the knowledge that they would get out of here. He remembered why he was best friends with Newt and Minho, and his trust for Teresa was slowly being pieced back together. His life was improving like it had never before.

While he worked he completely forgot about the dream and about Newt's warning. He pushed everything negative out of his mind's eye and filled the empty space with hope. The attitude must have been contagious, for everyone around him was brighter. The dullness that had glazed over so many people's eyes had disappeared and the hardship they had been through faded as though it had never been there.

After dinner Thomas didn't roam the halls like usual; instead he went straight to the courtyard. It was empty this time, and Thomas sat on the bench and allowed the dying sunlight to soak in him. He absently twirled a flower in his fingers as he closed his eyes and relaxed. For once he wasn't weighed down by the heavy burdens of his past or even of the present. He had let them all go.

He didn't notice when someone sat down beside him.

"What is it about this place that entices you so?" Brenda asked. Thomas opened his eyes and turned toward her.

"What?" he asked, not because he didn't hear her but because he knew she had a different meaning to her words.

"You keep avoiding me, yet you come to my place of sanctuary time and time again," Brenda explained.

"_You're _place? I'm sorry. If you want me to leave—" Thomas began to stand up but Brenda took his hand and pulled him back down.

"No, I want you to stay. Please. Talk to me." Her eyes shimmered with an abandoned look Thomas knew he was responsible for.

"Have you thought about what Newt and Teresa said? About finding something to hold onto?" Thomas asked, though he wasn't sure why.

"Yeah," Brenda answered softly.

"What is it?" he pressed. "What do you hold on to?"

She paused for a minute before she spoke. "You. I keep hoping that maybe one day you'll see me."

"I _do_ see you."

"That's not what I mean," she softly corrected him. He knew exactly what she meant; she meant that he didn't see her as someone to like, or to even love.

"I do," he repeated quietly. "You're just never looking."

Brenda looked down at her hand in his, and he couldn't help but stare at her. She truly was beautiful, and her long lashes swept across her skin like feathers drifting lightly to the ground. She raised her eyes and he was caught in the beauty of them.

Maybe he did have feelings for her. He hadn't thought about it lately with everything else happening but something inside of him stirred when she was near him. It entranced and terrified him at the same time.

"I'm looking now," she said, and she leaned up and kissed him. He didn't move, paralyzed by his raging mind. He still wasn't sure how he felt about her. Sometimes he wanted her and sometimes he distrusted her.

Brenda pulled away and whispered, "I know you're confused now, Thomas. You're always confused. But one day you'll know how you feel, and I want you to come and tell me the truth then. I'm more hurt by your silence than by your words. I still have hope for us."

She quietly walked away and Thomas was left staring at her wake. Part of him knew he could never sacrifice her. Even if what he was feeling wasn't love it was certainly something, and that something was powerful.

Thomas rubbed his eyes as he remembered Newt's warning. There was no possible way he could let any of his friends die. Just the thought of it made him sick.

Thomas looked down at the flower in his hand was startled to see he had been subconsciously pulling the petals off of it one by one. They seemed to drift in slow motion to the gravel path, and Thomas let the skeleton of the flower follow them. Then he stood up and walked back to the dorm, his mind lighter than before but still weighed down a little.

All of Newt and Teresa's inspiring could do nothing if Thomas couldn't get the warning out of his head and the dread of having to make an impossible decision out of his life forever.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and this is simply for enjoyment

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: When you read this chapter I want you to keep in mind that since this is AU the circumstances the characters are in are different and thus they act differently and say different things. (On another note, any Imagine Dragons fans out there? I'm in love with their new album!)

* * *

><p>Thomas and Minho were tasked with sweeping the hanger that day. Jane and Elizabeth had joined them again, and they started on the large room.<p>

Thomas was just pausing in his work for a second when he thought he heard a far off noise. Motioning for the others to stop sweeping and to stand still, he strained his ears. There it was again, a loud and deep boom.

"What is that?" Elizabeth asked. Her voice trembled. There was another loud boom, and the very walls seemed to shake. Screams started coming from the sound.

"Probably the Rat Man," Minho cursed, and ran for the boxes of launchers stacked in the corner. Thomas followed and they grabbed one for each of them. Jane held hers steadily, though Elizabeth looked a little timid.

"These won't kill, they'll just stun you for a few minutes," Thomas reassured her before the four of them began to make their way towards the sound. They all held their weapons up at the ready, wary of an ambush.

First the people came. The scientists were streaming out of the labs, faces showing pure terror. Thomas staggered as the building thumped again, and he stepped aside to avoid being trampled.

Minho glanced over at him. "If it was Janson they wouldn't be this terrified, would they?"

"It might be Cranks," Thomas suggested, and they continued to weave through the rampaging masses.

The hallway had never seemed longer. The closer they walked the louder the thumps and the more the building shook. Dust was floating out of cracks in the walls and the stream of people gradually began to lessen until there was no one except the four Gladers.

"Guess we're going in the right direction," Jane said cheerfully. Thomas wasn't sure if what they were going towards was something to be cheerful or excited about.

A flash of clothing disappeared behind a corner ahead and suddenly the grenade from a launcher shot out towards the group. They threw themselves against the wall and it bounced harmlessly against the ground, still crackling with electricity.

A blonde head peeked around the corner and Thomas recognized it as Newt. The boy came out, a sheepish grin on his face, a launcher held against his side.

"Sorry 'bout that, shanks," he said. Behind him Teresa, Brenda, Annie, and a few others emerged. They all gathered in front of Thomas.

"It's cool, Newt. We're heading towards the sound—" Everyone flinched as the walls shook and deep vibrations racked the hallway. Dust started coming down as cracks spider webbed the ceiling and floor.

"We better hurry it along, slintheads, or else all this klunk is going to come down on us," Minho commented. No one debated it; they fell in line behind Thomas, Minho, and Newt as the three began to jog down the hallway and turn the opposite way that Newt had hid.

Thomas didn't think the damage could get worse. He was wrong; chunks of concrete were falling down around them as they ran. Everyone had to dodge the flying missiles as they ran.

They skidded to a stop as the wall in front of them exploded. Thomas flew backward and crashed against the far wall. Pain spiked across his back and his legs twisted uncomfortably beneath him. Newt slammed against his side and Minho fell a few feet away. Everyone behind them also fell or was thrown back.

Even if Thomas could've found the strength to stand he wouldn't have been able to see. White dust covered the air like smoke, and he could hear everyone, including himself, coughing as their lungs rejected the tainted air.

When the dust finally cleared and Thomas wiped his face off he was stunned to see the boy in front of him. It was a teenager, one he had once known, and one he had thought dead or crazy.

The boy loomed in front of him, hands crossed over his chest as he observed the fallen Gladers. His eyebrow was lifted and his mouth was in a straight line. The entire facial expression screamed _Well, I didn't think this day would ever come but I'll glad I'm here for it._

He didn't say anything, just stood over them silently. Thomas decided to break the silence.

"Hey, Gally."

* * *

><p>"Thomas." A sneer broke across his face. "It's interesting how we meet. As I recall from the dear old Glade days I was always the one on the ground while you three stood over me. Guess whoever said 'what comes around goes around' wasn't lying."<p>

"What are you going here, Gally?" Newt asked. He struggled to stand up, and almost tripped when he put weight on his bad leg. Gally stood by, obviously amused.

"I'm with the Right Arm," he replied. "They rescued me from WICKED. Guess we have to save your sorry little slinthead butts now. Don't worry, you'll meet my friends soon."

Thomas staggered up beside Newt, and Minho was doing the same. Around them the others were standing up also.

"This all of you? Seems like your numbers just deplete everywhere you go. It's like there's a curse on you, Thomas. Whoever the shuck follows you will eventually die."

Oh, how Thomas hated the smug little smile on the boy's face.

"Don't talk to him like that." Teresa had come to stand a little in front of Thomas. Gally scowled when he saw her and in the blink of an eye had stepped forward and slapped her across the face.

Teresa lifted her hand to feel her face. It was already red and rage was filled in her eyes. Thomas could tell she was restraining herself from attacking the boy back.

"You always were a pain," Gally said calmly. "We should've just shoved you in the Maze with the Grievers. Would've saved a lot of trouble."

Newt had lifted his launcher at the boy. "You touch anyone else and you can live the most painful five minutes of your worthless life, you bloody shuck," he threatened.

Gally took a step back. "Flare eating your mind away? I thought they found a cure. Unless it didn't work on you."

"Shut up," Minho hissed. "You shut that shuck mouth of yours or you'll get a fate much worse than that launcher." He pulled a pistol out of his pocket. "I think I'll shoot off your kneecaps first, then your arms."

"Enough," Thomas said. He stepped forward. "Who's this Right Arm that you're with? We want to meet the leader."

"That won't be a problem," a voice said. A fat man stepped through the rubble wall behind Gally. "I'm Vince, leader of the Right Arm. You're all coming with me."

Everyone looked to Thomas but he simply shrugged. "Do we have a choice?"

"We could shoot you," Gally suggested. Vince gave him a sharp look and his smug smile faded.

"In that case we'd be honored," Thomas said. Vince put on a forced smile.

"Welcome to the Right Arm."

* * *

><p>They were unceremoniously loaded onto a Berg and the ship shot off. Apparently the facility had been invaded only to retrieve the Gladers. Thomas thought that weird until Gally explained, "We're like the anti-WICKED. Except we're smaller. And don't have unlimited resources. And we're considerably weaker."<p>

"So why do you need us?" Brenda asked. She'd stayed cool throughout the whole situation.

"Because Janson is scared of you. He thinks if anyone can take him down its you,. Thomas. Don't see why, you're kind of a wimpy runt in my opinion." Gally took a swig of water from a bottle.

"No wonder everyone in the Glade hated you," Brenda muttered. Gally narrowed his eyes.

"And I see why they only keep you around for eye candy," he shot back.

Thomas felt anger rise up in him. "Keep your shuck face shut. You don't talk to us like that."

"Of course, Thomas. Anything you want, Thomas." Gally finished his mockery and sauntered out to the cockpit. No one was sorry to see him go.

Teresa was still cradling her face, which had turned an even angrier shade of red. She didn't look hurt, just furious.

"I refuse to work with him," she hissed. "He's even a bigger pain then he was in the Glade."

"That's not up for dispute," Newt agreed. "He'll get too cocky one of these days, you'll see. He hasn't changed much since the Maze. Do you need something for your face?"

"If there's any ice around that would be great," Teresa said. Newt stood up and began rooting through the cupboards for the first aid kit. He dumped the contents of the ground and gave her an ice pack before handing out band aids and disinfectant wipes out to everyone. A lot of people had minor cuts from the exploding wall and Thomas felt a little bad that he didn't think of that before.

Brenda was still stewing in the corner. "So how do we feel about these people? Are we going to stay with them or are we going to make a run for it as soon as the opportunity presents itself?"

Thomas sighed. "I honestly don't know. Everything we do will have consequences."


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: This is just for enjoyment, I do not own any of this and I am not making any money off of this

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Sorry for the slightly late update! I'm extremely busy. Hope you like this chapter!

Chapter 20

The ride was ended up being about thirty minutes. Thomas alternated between pacing the short room and sitting on the edge of the sofa, hair messed up from running his hands through it. It had grown a little bit since the Maze Trials, as there had been no time for a hair cut since. Thomas wasn't sure he liked it, though it was an odd thing to bother him.

"If the Right Arm is really who they say they are, then how do they propose to stand against all the bloody power of WICKED?" Newt asked.

"They won't win," Brenda put in. "I was only a worker of WICKED for a few weeks before going to the Scorch and I saw evidence of the sheer amount of power and control WICKED has. Everyone who doesn't have the Flare yet and is smart works in factories in isolated countries where diseases don't spread very well, and the scientists are able to use what they mass produce. The Right Arm has none of that, I'm assuming, and even if they did they can't possibly have the funds to compete."

"Why do they even try?" Thomas asked in exasperation. "There is no point. Nothing they do matters—WICKED can never be fully stopped. Why would they want to even attempt to stop them anyway? Isn't WICKED saving the world? Aren't they working as best as they can? Is that not enough?"

"I don't trust WICKED but I think they were founded on good intentions and I think they're benefiting the world, at least right now," Teresa put in. "Maybe if I had my memories…"

"We all agree Janson is evil and needs to be stopped, but where does this all end? Where does the violence and the thirst for power stop? What use is this world, even?" Thomas shook his head.

"This buggin' planet ain't worth anything," Newt agreed. "It's just a bunch of klunk. I'm all for saving the people who live here but that's about it. I wouldn't want to rule this worthless, pitiful place."

"What does the Right Arm even hope to achieve by taking out WICKED? Even if they succeed what will they do?" Brenda sighed.

"All we have is questions," Teresa said. "And no one to answer them."

"No one _would_ answer them anyway," Minho snapped. "Not one shuck face here cares. Everyone just assumes we'll do their dirty work for them without explanation. I'm tired of it. So shuckin' tired."

Thomas had to agree with Minho. It seemed that no matter where they went or who they were with it was all for the purpose of doing tasks that were not explained. How was putting sixty teenage guys and one girl in a maze and sixty teenage girls and one guy in another maze a way to discover a cure for a deadly disease? How was putting the survivors of those groups in the most dangerous part of the planet? How was isolating them in rooms a solution? WICKED didn't make any sense sometimes. No, they _never_ made sense. And now they were making the same teens risk their lives just to help them.

"We know they expect us to take down Janson," Thomas said. "What then? And how do they want us to take him down? What can we do?"

"They probably assume we have a buggin' plan," Newt commented. "We don't, and we'll most likely just end up rotting corpses in a dying world. Seems like a normal thing around here," he added in a mutter.

"Thanks, Mr. Sunshine," Minho muttered. "We're all inspired."

"Oh right. I should rephrase that," Newt replied. "'Be careful. Don't die'."

"Dude, that is totally not how I sound. 'Hey everybody let's go follow Thomas!'" Minho shot back in an impersonation of Newt.

"That was the worst British accent I've ever buggin' heard—"

"Shut up!" Thomas yelled. He shook his head. "Sorry. But now is not the time. We need to stay calm and we need to think."

"With what little brains we have," Minho murmured, and everyone fell silent. Thomas felt like the group was slowly falling apart, the once strong bonds falling away as circumstances began to turn people into versions of themselves that they were not. They needed something to hold them together. Or maybe not _something_, Thomas thought, but _someone._

"Newt, can I talk to you? Alone?" Thomas stood and Newt followed him, slightly suspicious, to the corner of the room. They stood in silence for a minute. Then Thomas reached out to Newt's neck and touched the black ink that was permanently embedded there.

"You're the Glue, Newt. Our group is tearing apart, and we need you. I need you to step up and take charge. If we aren't held together than we'll never succeed in anything." Thomas took a deep breath. "Minho is the leader, but he isn't very people-oriented. That's your job. It will always be your job. Without you we'll fall apart, tear ourselves to pieces."

"If Minho's the leader then what are you, Tommy?" Newt asked softly. Thomas felt a strange emptiness inside of him. He knew exactly what he was, what he always would be. Pulling aside his collar he showed Newt his tattoo.

"To be killed," he replied quietly. "In the Scorch Trials it was Teresa's job to kill me. Now that we're out of there I'm a threat and Janson is the one trying to kill me. That is always who I'll be. I'm always going to be the target. That's why Minho's the leader; he isn't a target. You know why you're the Glue, that's obvious. These brands weren't just something to know for the Scorch Trials. These brands were a warning from WICKED telling us our fate."

"Do you really believe that? Do you really think you'll always be a buggin' target to the strongest people in the world?" Thomas hoped not. He _prayed_ not.

Thomas shook his head. "I don't anything, Newt. I may never know anything. That's our curse; we'll always just have blank parts in our head. To survive you need to live in the shadows and living in the shadows mean there are shadows in our brain."

Newt leaned against the wall, taking weight off his bad leg. "Maybe those bloody shadows are for the best. Maybe they're protecting us from the truth."

"Why would we need protection from the truth?" Thomas asked, though he already suspected what the boy would say next. But then he took him by surprise.

"Same reason we need protection from the light." Newt straightened up and walked back to the couches. Thomas stayed by the corner. He loved talking with Newt, as the boy was always full of wisdom, but he always gave Thomas too much to think about. Newt really was the wisest, if not also the smartest, of the group. He had always been.

Thomas finally gave up and sat back on the couches. It was silent. A few minutes later Gally opened the door. He was wearing his smirk.

"Okay, slintheads. Welcome to Right Arm. Hope you enjoy your visit, but I hope more so that you step out of line and get shot." Gally tilted his head. "Except the lovely lady. Brenda, you are going to come with me."

Brenda's eyes widened and she glanced at Thomas. A little fear was in her gaze but it was more questioning, like, _Should I trust him?_

Thomas nodded, knowing there was no other way around it. She and everyone else would just get hurt if they resisted. Brenda followed Gally as they left the Berg. Thomas sat back down again, and waited for the next instruction like usual; though he was worried about Brenda he figured she could hold her own. She always had, and she always would. He didn't know how normal girls acted, but all the ones he knew were tough, even more than he to some degree.

The thought of having to deal with Gally weighed more heavily on his mind. Gally had been the one to kill Chuck, and even if it had been under WICKED's control he still didn't like him. Especially because he was so arrogant. Part of Thomas couldn't hate him; he had been an outcast and had been outspoken from when Thomas first went to the Glade. The poor boy was probably just reflecting that treatement.

"Wonder how Gally got promoted so fast," Thomas said aloud. "He's full of klunk."

"But he's got good speaking skills, and that's all it takes sometimes. Just make up a bunch of shuck promises and other klunk that sounds believable and suddenly everyone loves you," Newt replied. "It's what he always did in the Glade."

"A lot of good that did him," Minho added. Thomas couldn't help but agree. Gally was all talk and not much action.

"We'll just have to see," Thomas said, and silence once against settled over all the remaining members of the groups.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own this. James Dashner does, and he deserves all the credit, both good and bad (for a specific page page 250)

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: I'm back! A mini-cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I'll update soon.

Chapter 21

Gally didn't return. A man escorted them into a plain, shabby apartment building. It was in between ruins of an old city. If they had a headquarters building there then it was disguised perfectly. No one would think to look twice over the shambly apartments.

"Doesn't look like much from the outside and WICKED assumes everyone here is a Crank so they don't bother. It's a good disguise." The man led them through several hallways. They had to take the stairs, since the power for the elevators was long gone. Thomas felt his legs burn from the effort. He had been doing a lot of exercise, but climbing stairs had not been one of them.

They finally stopped around a large apartment in the middle and the door was opened to reveal and office. Thomas felt his heart race a little. Vince sat behind a desk and motioned the Gladers in. Thomas felt repulsed by his image. Fat rolls all over his body, his triple chins jiggling when he spoke. Everyone sat down on the floor in front of the desk and the fat man began talking. They all listened, though it was only out of fear of what he might to them if they didn't. Some, including Minho, didn't do a very good job of hiding their disgust.

"You must have lots of questions about the Right Arm. Well, I'll tell you some of it. Not all, since you don't need to know and I really don't care, but I'll tell you everything you need to know. Got that?" He rubbed his hands together excitedly, his arm fat flabbing. Thomas felt the urge to puke. This man was the head of The Right Arm?

"Janson from WICKED is completely crazy, even without the Flare. He craves power and he has the resources and followers to gain it. The reason he wants a Cured world is to control it. We believe the only way to stop him is to pull up the roots—meaning we destroy WICKED altogether."

"Don't you want the world to be Cured?" Harriet asked. She was sitting beside Thomas and had a completely disgusted expression on her face. She was _not_ impressed by this man in the least.

"Not if it means Janson will control it. Everyone would be his slaves." Vince began to open his mouth to speak and someone else interrupted. The man tried to glare, but his beady black eyes just made him look like a fat weasel.

"So you're not giving the world a choice? You're basically saying on behalf of all the Cranks that they would rather die than be enslaved under Janson's will? What a bunch of klunk."

"The world doesn't have a voice. If the majority of the population has the Flare it means they are not sane enough to think for themselves. Us intelligent people must make the decisions." Intelligent people? Who did Vince think he was kidding? He was a hypocrite through and through.

Thomas was outraged. "You're not intelligent! You're selfish! At least with Ava in current charge of WICKED the world is being saved. You're not even making an effort."

Vince snapped up, his chair flying from behind him. His chubby face was red with anger. If the man wasn't so ridiculous Thomas would have been afraid. Instead he was just grossed out. Like he'd been for the entire time since he'd met Vince. Thomas vaguely wondered how he ever came to power.

"Don't even talk to me about that woman!" he yelled. "And you would do well to treat me with respect as your life is in my hands. I could kill you at any second!" Oh, really? If Vince wanted him dead he'd be dead already. He had a reason that he wanted the Gladers, especially Thomas, and he wasn't going to kill them.

"Don't you see?" Thomas asked, his voice calm and dangerous. "That's exactly why the Right Arm isn't doing well. You say you want to make a better world but you deny the population their vote on things and you threaten to kill the people that are actually capable of doing any good."

"You're right, Thomas," Vince said. His face showed smugness that Thomas didn't like. This man may have been pathetic and hilarious, but he was still in power, and he could still do bad things. "That's why I brought you here. You're going to take down WICKED, just you and your ragtag team of survivors."

"Why should we?" Thomas challenged, though he was glad Vince had finally revealed why he wanted them. Thomas could work with this, maybe manipulate Vince. "You're not doing anything for us."

"Because we have your little girlfriend," Vince sneered. "And we're not letting her go until you succeed. Should you decide to skip out early we'll let you leave—but she'll get a bullet straight into her pretty head. So I hope for her sake that you cooperate."

For once Thomas didn't have a come back. He stood there, shock paralyzing him. Some of the other girls had put a hand to their mouths in shock and one girl was even starting to cry. Brenda had been an inspiration to everyone and now that she was a hostage things just seemed to get worse. To Thomas this was confirmation that Vince was losing desperatly. Vince was grasping at loose straws, anything to help turn the tide towards The Right Arm. The joke was on Vince; WICKED couldn't be stopped. Thomas and his friends would die wasted lives that they hadn't even willingly sacrificed.

Teresa stood up beside Thomas. "You think just because you can sit back and make all the threats you want and be the biggest bully that you can control us. We have our free will, and we have our pride. Using and innocent girl as a shield is something only a coward would do, and a coward you are. If we decide to take down WICKED it will be because we choose to, not because you're making little threats. And do not mistake, if we take down WICKED you will fall, too. We're bringing it all down together. Think about your decision."

Thomas wasn't the only one stunned by Teresa's genuine defense of Brenda. Everyone knew they didn't really get along, but it seemed that something had united everyone. A common hatred of WICKED and a common hatred of the Right Arm. And Thomas was proud of her. Teresa had sounded threatening, and even Vince had wiped the smug smile off his fat face and replaced it with anger. Things might actually go the Glader's way.

At that moment Gally came into the room flanked by two guards and dragging a fighting Brenda along with him. Gally held a gun to her face. Thomas' heart stopped in shock. He hadn't thought that Vince would actually kill any of them, but Gally was sadistic and wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Thomas felt cold fear wash over him. They'd bitten off more than they could chew this time. A lot more than they could chew.

"Make your decision," Vince said. "Or else the girl gets it. Would be a same to waste such beauty." He stroked her face and Brenda snapped her teeth toward his fingers. He hastily removed them from the area before picking up his dignity again.

Thomas made eye contact with Brenda. He needed to save her, but he couldn't take down WICKED. Maybe she would have a plan. She was smart, and brave. Thomas had always been able to look up to her.

She struggled against Gally for a second before saying, "Don't do it for me, Thomas. You do what you want. Get away from here."

He choked on something he didn't know was in his throat. Brenda was offering to sacrifice her life for all of theirs, and for the good of the world. That was something even Thomas didn't think he could do. "But—"

"War has casualties, and my one death is nothing compared to the deaths of many," she replied, and in that moment Thomas truly saw her bravery. It made her even more attractive to him. It also made him fell more ashamed at himself for being so selfish all the time. "And this truly is a war," Brenda added. If this was a war then Brenda was surely the most loyal and courageous soldier on the battlefield.

Newt stood up at that moment. "We'll do whatever the bloody hell you want us to, but know that we'll never forget this, nor forgive it. One day we'll be free and you'll be regretting this in Hell."

Part of Thomas wanted to smile. Newt was so strong, and Thomas had missed the defiance. He'd missed the leading personality, and the snark comments. Minho stood up a second later, and Thomas wasn't sure if he was happy about that or if he was scared it would end in everyone's death. Sometimes Minho took things too far.

"Whatever you shuck faces do to us we'll do to you later," he threatened. "One day the coin will be flipped and you'll be more than sorry." Well that wasn't as bad as Thomas had thought it would be. He was proud of Minho for controlling his anger and not punching Vince like he knew he wanted to do.

One by one everyone else proceeded to stand, each declaring their blatant dislike and their threats. Thomas knew that even though they weren't holding the guns that they held all the power. It would just have to take the right moment before everyone acted on it.

Vince paled a little at every comment. He used a dirty white handkerchief to wipe sweat from his face. "So you'll take down WICKED, and my little friend will have an extended life." Yeah, Vince was definetly losing it. He was frightened by their declarations, but not enough to end this foolishness. Thomas vowed to himself that Vince and all of The Right Arm would pay their dues.

Brenda spat at him. "I'm no friend of yours, not even an ally. We're enemies and I hope you go to Hell."

Vince just smiled and motioned to send her away. Thomas felt rage bubble up inside of him. Gally dragged her off and Thomas slowly let his clenched fists loosen. He had to wait, and he had to channel his rage against The Right Arm when the time was right. For now he had to release and store the angry energy.

"So," Vince said amiably. "Where would you like to begin your siege of WICKED?"

Thomas saw a smile on Newt's face, and Minho was slowly nodding to himself. Thomas felt left out so he raised an eyebrow in question. Newt whispered, "Our friend."

The mischievous smile grew on Thomas' face and he couldn't suppress it. He was so glad for his brilliant friends. "You're a genius," he murmured before turning to Vince.

"We know the coordinates," he said. "And we have an able pilot with us. We just need a Berg."

Vince looked at him suspiciously but didn't deny him. He really was stupid. "I'm sending a team of specialists in with you. If you try to turn on me you'll be shot immediately."

"Deal," Thomas replied. That might be a little problem, but they could manage it. They'd solved the Maze and survived the Scorch. A few guards with guns were nothing.

The group shuffled out of the room and as the man began to guide them to the Berg. Thomas turned to Jorge.

"You remember the location of the facility?" he asked him. Jorge nodded, a slight smile on his face. He'd caught on.

Teresa came up between Thomas and Newt. "Dr. West?" she guessed. Thomas nodded, and Teresa smiled.

"Oh yeah. Vince'll never see it coming." Thomas was glad that she was supportive of it. She was a tough fighter and they would need everyone they could get, especially her.

And with that they walked towards their Berg. No one had a plan yet, but the news had spread through the group. Harriet and Sonya came up and told Thomas he had their support, as well as everyone left of Group B.

"Good. We'll need as much manpower as necessary. This might get messy."

"War is messy," Harriet replied. Thomas now fully realized that this was indeed war; war on the worst of humanity, and a war that would not be won by battles and death but one won by intelligence and wit. And The Right Arm had picked the wrong group to fight against.

"Then I'm glad we have two groups of bright young people named after the most successful scientists in history," Thomas said. The girls smiled.

"All you have to do is say the word and we'll be ready." Sonya shook Thomas' hand before melting back into the group. He felt stronger, like just the knowledge that they had his back aided strength to him. He felt ready to take on what was going to happen in the following hours.

"Poor Brenda," Teresa said. "She's going to miss all the excitement."

"Excitement" was not the word Thomas would've used, but he supposed it sufficed.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Original stories are not mine, but this work of fiction is

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: I apologize in advance for the cliffhanger (but don't you dare go peek at it before you read the chapter)

Chapter 22

The journey was a long one. Thomas passed out on the couch next to Teresa and woke up next to Minho. He had fallen asleep before everyone else and when he awoke almost they were all sleeping. He wandered down to the cargo hold to see who was awake and discovered Newt and Teresa sitting against the wall. He silently joined them.

"We were just trying to think of a plan," Teresa said. She seemed a little nervous, as if Thomas would chastize her for doubting his leadership abilities. He wouldn't of course; he didn't even really want to be the leader in the first place.

"I'm so glad to have such useful friends," Thomas told her, and he meant it genuinely. "Honestly I haven't given it any thought. I was just going to wing it."

Newt smiled. "That's why we're here. You're not exactly the greatest at improvising."

"Thanks for your support," Thomas replied sarcastically, though Newt had a point. In the Maze he'd burst forward with nothing but wisps of a plan and he had almost died several times. In the Scorch Trials he had been shot because of his poor planning, and he had been captured several times and almost killed by a cannibal Crank. None of those experiences had been pleasurable, and he didn't want any of his friends getting hurt due to his lack of planning.

"We were thinking that we could be like double agents," Teresa said, cutting off their little exchange. "We tell Vince's guards that we have a way in and that if they let us in the facility we'll open it for them to come in and attack later. But really we'll ask Dr. West to prepare and ambush. That way we'll get rid of Vince's guards. Then we'll get reinforcement from WICKED and as fast as we can we'll fly back to the Right Arm and free Brenda."

"That would require a lot of 'ifs'," Thomas pointed out, though it was a lot better than anything he'd thought of.

"Do you have a better plan?" Newt asked, mirroring his thoughts. Thomas just shook his head. "Didn't think so, Tommy."

"Won't the guards think we're up to something like that?" Thomas inquired. Teresa shrugged. He honestly didn't think the guards were that smart, anyway.

"We just have to convince them," Newt said. "Maybe we'll even drag one of their bloody butts into the facility with us and somehow get rid of him before we take out the rest. It's the best plan we could think of."

"How long have you been here thinking?" Thomas inquired, though he didn't know why. It wasn't his business. And actually, it didn't matter at all.

Newt looked at Teresa and shrugged. "About an hour, maybe."

"Thanks, ya shanks. I don't think I could have pulled this off without you." Thomas felt like they deserved some praise every once in a while. "And thanks for defending Brenda back at the Right Arm."

"Brenda isn't my favourite, but we're friends, and friends help each other," Teresa said. "If it was me in that situation I would have wanted her to stick up for me."

"Brenda's a very important member of our group," Newt added. "And she's especially important to you, Tommy."

"It's not like that—" Thomas began but Teresa cut him off.

"Oh, for shuck's sake, stop it, Tom. Everyone can see it!" She smiled at him. "If you enjoy being with her and if she makes you happy then accept it. There's so little joy in our lives that you have to take what you can get." She was calling him Tom again. But he didn't think it was the same. Before it had been what she called him because they had been best friends forever and lovers recently. Now it was back in the way of a best friend.

"Is that what you're doing?" Thomas asked. Teresa flickered her eyes to the ground before meeting his gaze again. A small smiled danced on her lips like she couldn't quite contain it.

"It's what everyone is trying to do," she replied. "Specifics don't matter."

Thomas had suspected as much, though he didn't comment. Her business was her business, and she seemed to want to evade the subject. He was just glad that she was finding some happiness in her life. He'd treated her pretty badly for a span of time. And Newt was a good friend to have. Truth be told, Thomas was a little jealous that they were besties now. But he had pushed Teresa out when Brenda had shown up, so it only fair.

Newt finally stood up. "I'm a little tired now. All our bloody planning won't be worth anything if we're so tired we can't think."

Teresa and Thomas agreed; Thomas had already slept but he was starting to feel tired again. Tomorrow would hold many ifs, and it would require everyone's focus and attention.

* * *

><p>Thomas, Newt, and Minho approached the leader of the guards in the morning. The Berg had landed about a half-mile away from the facility and was concealed behind a line of trees. The three of them were nervous; it was the first stage of the plan and if this didn't work out then nothing would. This was the most important step.<p>

"We know the leader of the facility," Thomas said to the guard. "We can get in, then we'll open a back door to let your guards through. They can take the facility by surprise. We'll capture some of the scientists and make them help us."

Just like they had assumed, the guard was slightly suspicious, though not as much as he should have been. "How do I know you won't turn on us and set up an ambush?"

"Because you or some other guard can come with us," Newt replied, totally poker faced.

"We want our friend alive more than we care about anyone in that building." Thomas wasn't sure if that was a total lie. Dr. West had been kind to them and the scientists had been nice, but Brenda was very special to him and the others. He felt guilty about that statement and pushed it out of his mind. He had to focus.

"I'll come," the guard said grudgingly. "And I'm taking two others with me. Don't get any ideas in your pretty little heads."

"And you always say I'm ugly," Thomas muttered to Minho and Newt. Then he went back to the group.

"Harriet, Sonya, Teresa, Aris, and Jane are coming with us," Thomas announced. "The rest of you need to lay low. Act well. They can't suspect anything, understand? If they do we're done for." The people he called stepped up and followed Thomas. The three guards had geared up and followed Thomas as he walked towards the facility on foot.

The walk was quiet and everyone became even warier as they approached the doors. All the Gladers were terrified. At any moment something could go wrong and they would all be shot. Thomas heard the familiar voice from the loudspeakers, and it comforted him slightly. So far, so good. Everyone followed the instructions the voice fave them.

The guards were the last to go through the sensors. The two that weren't the leader turned the sensor red; they had traces of the Flare and couldn't come any further, even though the Cure had been discovered. No wonder Vince was so set on taking down WICKED, Thomas thought. He needed the Cure, and WICKED had the Cure.

With lots of grumbling the remaining guard ordered them to wait outside and the Cured/Immune group continued to move forward into the facility. They were greeted by Dr. West and a dozen armed WICKED guards, all pointing their guns at the group.

"What is the meaning of this, Thomas?" Dr. West asked sharply. She herself held a pistol, though it wasn't aimed at anyone. He felt comforted by that.

"We need to talk," he replied. That was a tame way of putting it. But more importantly Thomas or someone needed a moment alone with her, just enough time to relay the plan. If the Right Arm guard heard even a part of it they would all be shot up. He hoped desperately that Dr. West would just trust him on this.

Out of the entire group Harriet was the one to pick up the cues. "Excuse me, I know it's a bad time, but can someone show me where the restroom is?" She made a show of desperation like she was about to pee her pants any minute.

Dr. West seemed a little put back, but she motioned to one of the guards. "Go show her and stay with her to lead her back. We'll be in the conference room."

Harriet started walking alongside the guard. As she separated from the group she winked at Thomas and couldn't help the small, smug smile that decorated her face. Thomas was quite proud of her; he hadn't noticed how smart she was before. If she hadn't picked it up then he didn't know what would have happened. Not anything good, he was sure.

The last guard looked between the leaving girl and the group, and Thomas saw the expression in his face. He knew something was up, and that he had lost. If he went with Harriet then Thomas and his group could make a plan with Dr. West and if he stayed with the group then Harriet could tell her guard. He let out a frustrated sound. At that moment Thomas knew they had won.

What he didn't expect was a last-minute attempt to fix the situation. All the WICKED guards had relaxed their guns and the Right Arm guard suddenly whipped up his machine gun and let loose a hail of bullets. The gun had recoiled, so most of the shots went wide and embedded themselves into the walls or ceiling. The WICKED guards shot him, and he fell immediately. Thomas turned away from the blood sprayed across the wall.

He scanned the small group of Gladers. No one seemed to be hit, so he relaxed. He had just turned to talk to Dr. West when he heard a strangled cry.

Thomas turned and the sight he saw seemed to blow a whole straight through his heart. He stumbled back out of instinct. But this wasn't a problem he could run away from.

Teresa was on her knees, hands clutching her abdomen. Blood was pooling around the wound and through her fingers. Her electric blue eyes were wide and terrified like a deer caught in a car's headlights.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this except my OCs and the plot

Rating: T for Glader language, violence, and some disturbing imagery

Author's Note: Here it is! Finally! And also to any of those in the Avengers fandom, I just published a new fanfic called "Between the Lines" so please check that out :) Also, there's some injury/medical things in this chapter and if any of it doesn't make sense, as I am sure it doesn't, please ignore it. I'm not a science/medical person at all.

Chapter 23

Dr. West jumped into action immediately. "Get the medics!" she yelled at a guard. Then she herself rushed forward to kneel beside Teresa. Teresa's eyes were rolling back, and her lids fluttered as if they were trying to close.

"Keep her with me!" Dr. West screamed as she herself applied pressure to the wound. "If she leaves we'll lose her!"

Thomas and Newt kneeled on either side on her. Thomas had a hand on her shoulder and he shook it gently.

"Stay, Teresa," he told her, swallowing back his own shock and pain. "You have to stay."

Her eyes seemed to roll and her mouth struggled to open. "I—I'm scared," she gasped.

"Don't be," Newt jumped in. "You're not going anywhere. Tommy and I are right here."

"Don't leave me!" Teresa shrieked. "Tom, don't leave me!"

"I'm not," Thomas replied calmly. Things were bad if Teresa was only half in the present. "Just hang in there."

But she was slipping, and there was nothing he could do. The few minutes that it would take the medics to get here and then to get her to the operating room would be a few minutes too much. He was going to lose her.

Was this what the warning meant? But Newt had said it would be his choice, that he'd be the one to choose. Thomas hadn't chose Teresa to be the one to get shot. What if the warning hadn't meant her because she would be already dead? What if this was his choice, because he had agreed to this foolhardy plan?

Thomas couldn't accept this. He had lost too many of his friends already, and he couldn't lose her. As he glanced at Newt he knew there was another reason her death would be fatal to all; she and Newt were best friends, and if she died Newt might lose himself again. No one could afford that. Thomas himself didn't think he keep going without Teresa. They had a common past, and if he ever regained his memories he knew he'd be crushed even harder by her loss.

Dr. West reached around Thomas and examined Teresa's back with the hand that wasn't held against the entry wound. Thomas noticed her eyes widened and she turned pale.

"It went straight through her," Dr. West said. "Someone needs to staunch the bleeding on that side."

Newt placed his right hand where Dr. West instructed, though both he and Teresa winced. Her in pain, him in disgust—not that Thomas blamed him, considering he himself was too wimpy to touch the blood.

Teresa started to slump. She was gone, Thomas was sure. He kept his hand on her shoulder though he stopped pleading with her to stay. It was a lost cause. Shock came over him and he stared off to the right of Teresa's face. He could still see and hear everything but it was like his mouth and body were paralized.

Newt wasn't going to quit so soon. He placed his free hand on the side of Teresa's face and turned her eyes toward him.

"Don't you dare leave us, you shuck-face," he threatened. "You're going to make it. We won't leave without you, so don't you dare try and leave us."

Teresa's mouth opened slightly. "It hurts," she murmured, almost so quiet that Thomas couldn't hear it. The broken sound of her voice made Thomas' heart drop and he sat in numb silence, still holding on to her shoulder.

"I know, trust me, I know how it must hurt," Newt said, a different colour to his voice.

Teresa managed to get a look of disbelief in her eyes. "How? You've—never been—shot."

Newt sighed. He ducked his head for a moment before lifted it back up and looking her in the eye. Thomas saw the shimmering tears in his eyes and knew that he had never seen a deeper sadness. The boy's eyes were like bottomless oceans of pain and sorrow, and Thomas wondered what had ever happened to make him so sad.

"No, you're right," Newt agreed. Teresa was staring at him, despite her rough breathing and the pain that physically racked her body. Dr. West was still examining the wound and Thomas knew it couldn't be much longer before the medics came. For the moment, though, the girl had her attention on Newt and she was stable.

"I've suffered a worse wound," he started. "You ever wonder how I shucked up my leg so badly?" He paused, took a deep breath, and then forged on. Thomas knew what he was going to say, and in any other situation he would have praised the boy. Teresa's eyes were fighting to stay open even more, and she was completely grounded in the present, at least for a few more seconds. "When I was in the Maze I hated it there. I hated the bloody place so much. One day I was running in my sector, sector seven, and somehow I managed to run in circles around the same wall. After the third time I stopped in front of it and it seemed as though the buggin' Maze itself was taunting me, telling me that all my work was for nothing. I got so frustrated, and hopelessness tore at me. It was at that moment that I knew there was only one escape from it."

Thomas had heard the story a few weeks ago when Newt was trying to jump off the Berg. This time when Newt told it, however, he added in information that Thomas hadn't known. The fact that the boy was telling Teresa shocked Thomas, as he was sure that even Minho didn't know yet (well, he was hearing it now). It was working, though. Newt continued on.

"I climbed up the wall as high as I could. All I saw was more of the walls and more of the ivy and grey stone and hopelessness. Then I jumped. Landed on my shuck leg and laid in complete agony. Unfortunately Alby found me and dragged me in. I was so close, Teresa, so bloody close. There was a reason I survived, and though I didn't know it at the time it was to help Thomas get out. You're going to survive, Teresa, and it's because you have a purpose that hasn't been fulfilled yet."

Teresa reached up a trembling hand to place over Newt's. "Do I?" she asked, her voice full of the same sadness that was in Newt's eyes. "Do I?"

Thomas finally jumped in, his temporary shock wearing off. "We all do. We're going to make it through together. I promise."

Teresa flicked her eyes to Thomas. "The last person you promised something to died, Tom."

She hadn't meant to hurt Thomas but the statement tore through Thomas. He stood up, extremely upset.

"You think I wanted Chuck to die? You think I thought he would? You were with me the whole time and you think I wanted it?" Thomas hadn't realized he'd been screaming until He felt an arm grab him and drag him away down the hall. He was bursting with anger and rage, and he just wanted to get it out.

"Hey, man. Calm it down. The shank is dying and if your last words to her were yelled in anger then you're going to regret it for the rest of your life." Minho was glaring at Thomas, though the boy suspected it had to do with something more than just yelling at Teresa. Thomas himself felt shame, for Minho was right. But at the moment it seemed Minho needed to get something off his chest.

Thomas waited for Minho to speak and then the boy finally did. "Did you know about Newt?"

He just nodded, too caught up in anger over Chuck to speak. Minho swore and turned away, punching the wall angrily before turning back to Thomas.

"I'm going back in there because those other Gladers need me. You're going to stay here and cool it off because you're just making a shuck situation worse." Minho's voice was hard and serious, and Thomas wondered if the knowledge of Newt's limp had changed him for good. He hoped not.

Minho disappeared and Thomas sank down against the wall as sobs burst from him. He was losing everyone, and just when he had found them and brought them close again. He thought he had come to terms with Chuck's death but he hadn't. Now he was losing Teresa and his last words to her were those of anger and rage.

He'd really made a mess of things, hadn't he?


End file.
